Continued from 'A Different Kind of Wing!fic (NC-17 Dean/Castiel) where Dean is cursed by some teen witches to have butterfly wings, Cas comfors him with sex while Sam goes to find the witches again. At the end Sam returns... a little different. Slight Sam/Gabriel vibe to this one but no slash, not even a lingering touch :)

Previously, in A Different Kind of Wing!fic

A few hours later found the two fast asleep. Well, Dean was asleep, stretched out on his stomach, wings standing up from his back, pulsing slightly with every beat of his heart and fanning gently as he breathed. Castiel lay on his side, his own wings draped behind him, trailing onto the floor as he watched Dean dream. He listened to Dean mutter his name then wrap his pillow in his arms and bury his face in it and felt a small smile curve his lips. Giving in to temptation, Castiel reached out and trailed one finger over the top curve of Dean's wing, watching as the hunter writhed in his sleep, reacting to the stimulus but quickly drew his hand away when a scraping sounded at the door.

Out of bed in a heartbeat, Castiel clothed his lower half with a thought, wings drawing tight to his back as he swiftly approached the door. He hadn't heard the Impala pull up out front but Sam hadn't called for assistance either. It was fully possible that the younger Winchester had returned during his and Dean's coupling and decided to go to a bar for a few hours, then walked back instead of risk himself and Dean's car, but if that were the case, why wasn't he using his key? Sam always took great care to remain in full control.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind and calling his sword to his hand, Castiel wrenched the door open on a very surprised Sam Winchester. At least, he assumed it was Sam Winchester. The top half looked like him anyway but from the hips down Sam's legs had been replaced with what appeared to be the body of a large Morgan horse.

Centaur and angel stared at each other for a moment.

"The witches," they said together. Castiel nodded acceptance as Sam flushed, clutching the piece of wire he'd been attempting to pick the lock with in one large hand.

"The key was in my pants," Sam muttered under his breath. His pants which had disappeared when his new, um, anatomy, had appeared.

"Cas?" Dean's voice sounded, thick with sleep. "Is Sam back?"

Castiel watched with detached fascination as Sam's eyes widened to nearly resemble one of the cartoon characters Dean watched on television in the mornings as his brother tugged on his boxers and shuffled across the room to the door.

There was dead silence for a span of time, then, Dean started laughing. Sam crossed his arms and scowled at his brother.

"Oh, there is a God!" Dean proclaimed joyfully.

Sam glowered at him.

"I hate you."

And now I return you to your regularly scheduled fanfic...

It soon became apparent that, even if Sam had managed to pick the lock without waking Castiel and his brother, he still wouldn't have been able to fit through the narrow motel room door. His shoulders… er, make that his lower shoulders, were just too wide. After Dean had finished laughing himself sick and moved on to freaking out over the whereabouts of his precious Impala, Castiel very calmly suggested moving the two to a less conspicuous location. While it would be somewhat plausible to keep Dean and his gigantic butterfly wings concealed in the motel room, there was no way Sam was getting inside, or being comfortable there even if Castiel managed to mojo him in. So, that was how Sam and his brother found themselves on Bobby's front yard in the middle of the night, Dean in nothing but his boxer shorts and Sam, for all intents and purposes, naked. Castiel was nowhere in sight, presumably retrieving the Impala from her hiding place before the coven of teenage witches could get their hands on her. Looking at what those teeny-bop psychos had done to him and Sam, Dean shuddered to think of what they'd do to his baby.

Shivering in the chilly South Dakota night, Dean wrapped his arms around himself, pressed his wings tight together, and glanced over and up at his brother. Sam had bitch face #17 firmly in place, scowling at everything and nothing as he hugged his bare upper body, his four new legs splayed out in a pose Dean had never seen a real horse take in an attempt to keep his balance. Glancing away as he felt another laughing fit creeping up, Dean cleared his throat and put on his best Devil-may-care expression.

"Well," he said. "Might as well get this over with, Trigger."

With that, he gave Sam's rump a firm smack and waltzed up to Bobby's front door. Sam jerked in surprise, his new body instinctively sidestepping away from the hard pat and immediately loosing his tenuous hold on dignity. He had mostly figured out the two-right-feet, two-left-feet thing on his way back from the coven's lair but at the sudden movement all he'd learned went right out the proverbial window which is how Bobby opened the door in time to see a centaur do a double pirouette before collapsing in an ungainly heap in the gravel of the old hunter's driveway while his butterfly-winged brother wheezed himself to his knees on the front porch.

To his credit, Bobby barely blinked, just huffed out a sigh, turned his wheelchair and disappeared inside his house once more, leaving the brothers to follow or stay where they were. After he'd managed to catch his breath, which took longer than Dean cared to admit, he took pity on his brother and moved from the porch to help him to his feet. Sam lay where he fell, horse body on its side in the gravel, legs sprawled every which way while the youngest Winchester had twisted his torso to press as much of his human back against the ground as possible, arms out flung, as he stared sightlessly up at the stars.

Dean sobered as he approached, slowly sidling up to Sam, unsure of his welcome. A retaliatory kick wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility, which normally wouldn't be a huge deal, but Sam's gigantic sasquatch feet had been replaced by wickedly sharp hooves, which he might forget in a fit of pique. Dean wasn't taking any chances.

"You okay there, Sammy?" he asked, tentatively.

Sam sighed, a much bigger sound than Dean was used to, and he watched, fascinated, as the horse-ribs expanded with Sam's huge breath, completely bypassing his human chest. Dean wasn't really sure how that worked, but it was kinda freaky.

"Do I look like I'm okay, Dean?"

Dean silently conceded the point then glanced toward the house, the front door still wide open in, if not welcome, then at least tolerance.

"You want me to stay out here?"

"No," Sam said softly without once glancing at Dean. "Go tell Bobby what happened, I'll just… hang out here for a little bit."

"You sure?"

Sam twisted his neck far enough to shoot a halfhearted glare at his brother.

"Whatever, man," he heard Dean say as the older hunter turned away. "Just don't come crying to me if you freeze your balls off."

"I'll try to remember that," Sam deadpanned as his brother's footsteps faded.

Sam wasn't sure how long he lay there before he became aware of the fact that he wasn't alone. Castiel had arrived soon after Dean had retreated into the relative warmth of the house, the Impala appearing in her customary spot, gleaming like a dark jewel against the drab backdrop of rusted out junkers that littered Bobby's property. He realized just who had decided to grace him with their presence a split second before he spoke.

Gabriel let out a low whistle before declaring, "Wow! My girls really did a number on you boys; that's for sure."

Sam twisted his upper body up and around to glare at the archangel who stood leaned up against the Impala, king size Snickers in hand, as his amused gaze swept over Sam from his head, over the gleaming chestnut fur of his new body, to the tail the swept back and forth across the gravel no matter what Sam did to try to make it stop.

"Your girls?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah!" Gabriel chirped with a smirk. "Power like that has to come from somewhere, slick and you knew they weren't gettin' it from demons. They're the best little followers a trickster could ask for."

He wiped away an imaginary tear. Sam slumped back to the ground.

"Perfect," he muttered.

"Oh, cheer up, Seabiscuit," Gabriel urged. Sam just glared at him.

"They must have thought you were quite a stud to set you up like this," the archangel continued, snickering a bit at his own joke. When Sam continued to lay there like a particularly attractive lump, Gabriel sighed and strode over to him. "Come on, Winchester! Get up! It's not that bad and it'll wear off in a couple of days anyway."

Sam pretended not to hear him. Gabriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and they said he was the difficult one.

"Come on, Flicker," he grumbled, shoving Sam's wayward legs into the proper positions.

Sam raised his head to stare at the other man.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Gabriel didn't bother to reply, just grabbed Sam by his human shoulders and pulled him upright. Sam yelped at the sudden shift, hands automatically going out to grab something to steady himself, only, the only thing in the immediate vicinity happened to be Gabriel. Startled hazel eyes met brown and Sam immediately withdrew his hands from the angel's shoulders. Gabriel pretended not to notice; moving his hands to Sam's blend, the spot where human met horse, and shoved. Sam's hands were back on his shoulders as his front feet instinctively extended to hold himself up, large hooves planting in the gravel scant millimeters from the toes of Gabriel's boots. The archangel ducked out from under Sam's hands, leaving the hunter to flail in an amusing sort of way until he regained his balance as Gabriel moved around behind him. Sam jerked around to glare at Gabriel when he felt the toe of the angel's boot nudge at his rump.

"Get your ass up, Winchester," Gabriel commanded. "You won't like it if I do it for you."

Sam's stare turned challenging as he crossed his arms over his chest and remained where he was.

"You asked for it," he heard Gabriel sing-song a split-second before stronger-than-human hands settled on either side of his rear and lifted. Sam let out a shout of surprise, his upper body falling forward, arms pin wheeling as his back legs unfolded and tried to find some center of gravity while his front legs tried their damndest to keep him from ending up in a heap again. He was too busy trying to stay upright to entertain the thought of kicking Gabriel, for too long anyway. A few wobbles and some fancy footwork later, Sam had managed to stand without support and was glaring daggers at the smirking archangel.

"You're welcome," Gabriel said.

"What do you want?" Sam ground out through gritted teeth.

The smirk faded and Gabriel studied the ground for several of Sam's adrenaline-fueled heartbeats.

"I've been thinking," he began slowly. "Since the last time I saw you guys."

"Uh-huh," Sam hummed as he crossed his arms, finally managing to bring his unruly legs under control enough to assume a more dignified position; upright rather than sprawled out like a newborn foal. Now if only he could get his tail to stop flicking around behind him he'd be set.

"Thing is," Gabriel continued. "I like this world; I like the things in it. Candy, tv, sex…hell, I even like you guys. You and your brother aren't bad for a couple of hunters."

Sam just nodded, unsure if he should be disturbed or not that the angel had included him and his brother in the same sentence as sex and candy. Gabriel continued.

"And, as a deity, I kind of owe it to my girls to maybe not just let the world burn down around 'em. They're good kids; bright futures, the whole bunch…" he trailed off and gazed out into the forest of old cars.

"So," Sam began hesitantly. "What exactly are you saying?"

Gabriel's eyes flew to him once more, some unnamed emotion quickly covered by the mocking light of the Trickster as he spoke.

"What I'm saying, Hidalgo," Sam scowled at him, "Is that I'm gonna help you take down Lucifer."