a/n: Includes: kid!Dean & teen!Iggy.

Started: November 4th, 2013; writer's block; Finished: June 4th, 2014.

Dean started to doubt, but when his Momma sends him an Angel, he sees the truth.

Shield of Wings

Ever since Dean Winchester could remember, Angels had been watching over him. His conscious mind couldn't process first hearing those words, but his subconscious could. While he'd still been in his Momma's womb, it was the first thing that had ever been said to him.

"Angels are watching over you, Dean."

It was the first thing that his Momma said to him when he was born. It was those words that he woke up to every morning. And they were the last thing he heard when he went to sleep. Those were the last words his Momma said to him as he watched her glued to the ceiling and swallowed by red. And it was that night that he stopped believing what his Momma said was true.

She was liar!

If Angels were watching over him like she'd promised, they'd never have let her be stolen away from him. They would have taken him away too if they'd cared! But they didn't, they left him all alone. If he couldn't believe that Angels were watching over him, then he didn't believe in anything else.

That was when he stopped talking.

He stopped talkin' to Daddy; 'cause he was always too busy to talk any way. He stopped talkin' to Sammy; 'cause he was too young to do a thing. He stopped talkin' to Uncle Bobby too; 'cause he was kinda intimidating. And he stopped talkin' to his Momma in the darkness as he lay in bed. She didn't talk to him no more, so why should he talk to her? The only person he didn't stop talkin' to, was himself; 'cause that was impossible.

He liked bein' by himself 'cause otherwise he'd be tempted.

When Daddy dropped him and Sammy at Uncle Bobby's so he could go Treasure Hunt, Dean'd always sneak away to be in the woods. The animals there never bothered him, so he didn't bother them. It was in this place that he could almost believe again, almost.

And it was there that Dean started to really believe again, 'cause he found an Angel!

He was laying there on the ground, bruised and battered; liked he'd fallen from the sky and through the trees at Dean's feet. His clothes were ripped and torn, smeared with blood; his or theirs (whoever they were). Dean crept closer. He had strawberry blond hair, and (well) angelic handsome features. His wings were huge, but damaged, feathers were broken and bent or missing all together. They weren't white either, but the colour of ash.

Finally at his side, Dean fell to his knees. The Angel hadn't moved, was he even breathing? With shaking fingers, he reached towards the unmoving body. Angels didn't die, did they? His fingers touched the shoulder beneath the torn windbreaker (did Angels dress like this?), and he felt the muscle beneath move. Dean sat back, gasping in relief, not realizing he'd been holding his breath.

The Angel moved no further as Dean continued to watch him, wondering what he should do. His first thought was to go run and find Uncle Bobby, but then he scratched the idea; Bobby wouldn't believe him in the first place, and if he did, Dean was afraid that he would hurt the Angel (he didn't know why he thought that, but he just did)—and he felt that went doubly with his father. So he knew that he was going to have to do this by himself. He would go back to the house, quiet, get the First Aid kit, and then come back.

He needed to save the Angel!

With one last look at the Heavenly being's body, he climbed to his feet, silently thinking of other things that he might need to bring. Did Angels eat? Did they need changes of clothes? He wasn't sure, and he wanted to be safe, so he was gonna bring everything he could think of. With one last look at the Angel, he ran. Ran like someone's life depended on it (and someone's did), the Angel needed him, he was here for a reason, and he needed Dean's help. And Dean was going to save him.

When he got back to the house, it was easy to get the things that he needed (Uncle Bobby bein' busy with a fussing Sammy). His return trip was slowed as he was weighed down by all his supplies. He was breathless by the time he'd finally returned to the Angel (who still hadn't moved, and Dean was scared). He didn't know how he'd be able to handle it if he was too late and the Angel died. But as he dropped the bag from his shoulders, and fell to his knees, and touched the ash colour wings gently under his finger tips, he knew that he wasn't. The powerful muscle twitched under the soft feathers as they shivered, and the Angel moaned.

Dean jumped back in surprise as the Angel started to wake up.

Iggy's light brows furrowed as he squeezed his eyes before he looked around blindly, unseeing. "Hello?" His voice cracked, he knew someone was there, he could sense them. "Who's there?" He knew that it wasn't Fang, too small, it could almost be Angel, but he knew it wasn't a girl.

"H-hello," Dean replied, his voice rough from lack of use, hesitantly inching closer as the Angel painfully pushed himself up until he was sitting, his wings not folding properly behind him back.

"Who's that?" the Angel repeated, a grimace clouding his handsome features.

Dean looked at the Angel in confusion as he continued to look around like he couldn't see. Didn't Angels know everything? If they watched over you, wouldn't they need to know everything in order to protect you? At least, that was what he thought. Maybe the fall from Heaven was harsher than he thought. If the Angel was so badly hurt that he didn't know Dean's name, then the boy wasn't sure he would be able to help much.

"My name's Dean," he said helpfully, inching closer and closer.

The Angel huddled into himself, shying away.

Dean stopped a couple feet away, peering closer at the being. His eyes widened when he saw that they were staring right back at him, but not as if they saw him.

"Your eyes!" he couldn't stop the gasp.

"What about them?" the Angel asked suspiciously.

"They're hurt, you can't see!"

"That's nothing new." Iggy said bitterly.

"Did you—did you lose them in battle?" Dean asked hesitantly, in awe. "Protecting someone?"

Iggy's eyes seem to stare right at him, piercing. What was wrong with this kid, couldn't he see that he was hurt? It was probably the wings, they always caused him problems in situations like these. "I'm Iggy," he said, hoping to move this along and avoid anymore weird questions. "Where am I?"

"Uncle Bobby's backyard," Dean told him, disappointed about not getting an answer to his question.

Iggy frowned. "And where's that?"

"Um, Daddy told me once." Dean took a moment to think. "Ah! Sioux Falls, in North Dakota, I think. Or maybe he said South,"

"Great." Iggy muttered because it wasn't so great. He didn't have to see his wings to know that they were jacked, he could feel it. He was alone and the only person he could rely on was this kid, and who knew what help he'd be. "Did you tell anyone I was here?"

Dean shook his head rapidly. "No. Daddy and Uncle Bobby would kill you if they ever found you!"

"They would? Why?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know why, maybe 'cause they'd be scared?" But he wasn't so sure.

"Are you?"

"No! Mommy always said that Angels were watching over me, but I didn't believe her no more after she died." he sounded guilty. "But then I found you, and I knew she was right! Angels are real."

Iggy felt super awkward. He wanted to tell the kid that he was no Angel, far from it, more like a science experiment. But how would the kid react if he said that? He needed help, as much as he hated to admit it, and this kid was all he had. So he'd let the kid keep believing that he was an Angel so he could get help and then get the hell out of here and find the Flock again.

"You're right," Iggy said slowly. "I am an Angel." He shoved the guilt and shame about using the kid's dead mom in his lie, but he had to do what he had to do. "But like you said, it would be better if we didn't tell anyone that."

"Okay."

"Umm, so, I'm kinda hurt here, Dean, you don't think you can help me out with that, could you?"

Dean jumped to his feet and ran back to where he had left the packed bag, he lugged it over to Iggy and dropped it down in front of him, dropping to his knees next to it. "When I found you, you were still unconscious, so I went back to Uncle Bobby's house and got the First Aid kit and a few other things too!" He claimed proudly.

Maybe the kid wasn't so useless, Iggy thought. He reached out a hand and found the pack immediately. Opening the zipper, he reached inside with knowing fingers. He pulled out the small First Aid kit, some clothes, food, even a few action figures and plastic army men-—the kid seemed to have thought of everything. His confidence in the situation seemed to be getting better by the minute. Dean watched as he opened the med kit and traced the contents with the tips of his fingers, and it was almost as if he could see!

"Think you could help me with this?" Iggy questioned; even if he could see, it wasn't like he could reach his wings anyway.

"M-me?" Dean was shocked.

"Do you see anyone else around here?" Iggy snapped. "I mean, yes, you."

"O-okay." Dean nodded nervously as Iggy shifted around until it was his back and wings facing the boy. I can do this! He thought to himself. He knew all the things in the kit, he'd seen them many times before, and how they were used. He'd watched his Daddy do it, after all; he'd even used some of them himself. As much as he wanted to reach out and caress the feathers in front of himself, he forced his mind back on the job at hand. He wanted to help this Angel, and maybe he'd be so thankful for the help that he'd stay with Dean, or even take him with him, maybe they could even visit his Momma to show her that she was right all along! With such grand possibilities in mind, Dean started to inspect the Angel's injured wings.

Dean didn't know much about wings, Angel or otherwise, but he did the best he could, with the tiny knowledge he had. He found feathers that were missing, bent or broken, and asked Iggy what he should do, the Angel told him to pull the broken or bent feathers. Dean was horrified at the thought, but Iggy quickly explained that they'd grow back faster. Dean didn't want to hurt the Angel further, but what other choice was there? He plucked the broken and bent feathers, Iggy hissing and grunting in pain with each pluck. By the time Dean was finished there was nearly two dozen bent feathers, and broken shafts in a pile next to him.

Next, Dean cleaned where he'd plucked the feathers, and any other cuts or scraps that he found. Iggy let out a yelp when Dean touched the edge of his left wing, near the tip, the boy jerked back instantly. With out touching, he peered closer, comparing the area with the other wing.

"I-I think it's broken, Iggy." Dean stammered. He wasn't a doctor or anything, but he'd seen his Dad come home with a few broken bones before, even Uncle Bobby once.

"Are you sure?" Iggy asked, fear tingeing his voice. If it was broken then he wouldn't be able to fly. If he couldn't fly, then he'd have to stay here longer and that was the last thing he wanted. He needed to get back to the Flock. They were being chased, and as much as he hated to think it, but knowing it was true, if the Erasers where still on their tail, there was no way they'd be able to come back for him; Max would put the safety of the whole Flock first instead of a single member. Iggy brought his left wing forward, he could feel the twinge of pain in brought, but he grasped the appendage anyway, and ran his sensitive fingers along the edge. There! He winced as he felt it. It wasn't a big break, a small connecting bone was broken, that was all. It was nothing to get upset about; it would be healed by this time tomorrow. And he could still fly, it'd just hurt like a bitch was all. He sighed in relief, "I can feel a broken bone, but it's just a small one, irrelevant really; it'll be healed in no time."

Dean felt a swell of relief as well; if it had been a major break, he wouldn't know the first thing about fixing it. "That's everything,"

Iggy turned back around and could fold his wings at his back better this time around. Dean handed him some Advil to help with the pain and some water from a bottle. They sat in silence as they ate, it was nothing special, just some things that Dean could pack quickly from Uncle Bobby's kitchen that wouldn't be missed; half a loaf of bread, and couple of cans of beans that had peal-back lids, and a candy bar that he had been saving for later; but Iggy ate it like if was a roasted chicken.

Dean couldn't help but stare at him—so Angels did eat! Though it was such a mundane thing for him, it seemed really cool that Iggy was doing it.

Iggy could feel his stare and as much as he wanted to snap at the kid to stop looking a him, he wasn't an alien, you know, but he guessed to Dean he was—the kid thought he was a fricken Angel, after all.

Dean was bursting with questions that he was dying to ask, but it felt rude to asked them. Were all Angels like him? Did the have different coloured wings or were they all like his? Did Angels really have Halos? What were Heaven toilets like? Did Angels even go to the bathroom? But most of all, he wanted to ask Iggy if he knew his Momma, and if it was in fact her that sent him down here.

"So," Iggy said awkwardly; he could feel the kid's angst all the way over here. It was getting worse by the moment. He was going to have to leave soon, but he felt weird if he didn't say something to the kid. But what could he say that would sound Angel-y and not break Dean's belief in something bigger than himself? He wasn't the most sensitive guy.

But Dean seemed to sense it anyway. His shoulders slumped as he looked at the young Angel. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

Iggy nodded. "Sorry, Dean. But I got some friends that will be worried about me if I don't get back soon."

"Other Angels?" Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the prospect. He wondered what they looked like. He wondered if there were girl Angels.

"Yeah," Iggy sighed softly. "My friends are Angels too."

"Okay." Dean nodded, unable to help but feel disappointment. "Can I meet them?" He asked suddenly.

"What? No!" Iggy blurted.

"Why not?" Dean pouted.

"You have to stay here!" Iggy told him firmly. "And... and stay with Uncle Bobby, and your Dad." He snatched from the air.

"Sammy, too?" Dean wondered.

Iggy nodded, latching on to that. "Sammy, too." He agreed. He had no idea who Sammy was, but Dean wouldn't have mentioned him if he didn't matter—probably a dog or something.

"Okay." Dean said after a moment. As much as he wanted to fly with Iggy and met his Angel friends, he knew that he'd miss Dad, Uncle Bobby and Sammy too much.

Iggy breathed in relief. "Alright," He slowly climbed to his feet, carefully flexing his wings. He grimaced at the action, but promptly ignored it. He turned his face up towards the sky, and though he couldn't see, he felt the shine of the sun touch his cheek, and could sense the gaps in the branches where he'd fallen through.

"Can I watch you fly?" Dean asked, breathless, his hands clasped in front of himself in excitement.

"Sure," Iggy agreed, he'd give the kid that much. "Step back, though."

Dean nodded and did as he was told. He watched as Iggy fluttered his wings, gathering air underneath them. He bent his knees until he was almost crouching, and launched himself into the air. His wings flapped harder this time, the twinge going into the back of his mind as he concentrated on flapping his wings harder. He lifted higher and higher, and allowed a smile to cross his cynical lips as he heard Dean gasp in wonderment. And then he was gone, up through the trees, and back into the sky where he belonged.

Dean stayed where he was for a while longer, still looking up to where Iggy had disappeared. His heart fluttered as he now clasped his hand differently, a wistful expression on his cute features.

"Thank you, Momma." He whispered to beyond the sky where he now knew his Momma and the Angel was watching over him. "Thank you, Iggy."

After that, he collected all the things that he had brought from the house and headed home.

"Where ya been, boy?" Bobby asked, but he didn't expect the boy to answer, he never did. But he'd get a shock tonight.

"Meeting Angels, Uncle Bobby." Dean told him truthfully.

Uncle Bobby just looked a him like a idjit and that was okay with Dean. Of course, later, when he was older, he would realize that Iggy wasn't a true Angel, but not until later. Right now, he got his belief in his mother and the world back, and that was all he ever wanted or needed at that time in his life.

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