A/N: So wow. I haven't written anything in a while. As you can see, my fandom has shifted. Supernatural caught me off guard, swept me up, and took me away to a beautiful place of Destiel and Winchester feels. I am completely and totally infatuated with the one man they call Misha Collins, and the way he developed Castiel's character. HE'S JUST PRETTY, OKAY? Anyway… I still can't believe people are looking at my fanfics and visiting my page WAT WAT IT'S BEEN LIKE A YEAR SINCE I UPLOADED ANYTHING. HOW. WHY. I won't really ask. Just know I love each and every one of you out there that still reads my stuff, even if it is just for the pr0nz. Now, let me bore you to death with this obnoxious author's note that no one will probably read but OH WELL. This fanfic will actually have a bit of plot LE GASP I know! Don't worry, the SEXEH time will come (HAR HAR) sooner rather than later. AKA next chapter.
Sorry for any OOCness that is bound to happen.
I don't own any characters and blah blah blah. THIS IS JUST FOR FUN, GOVERNMENT GAIZ.
Rated M for Mmmmm yaoi
Don't like yaoi? SIMPLE! Click the back button and we can all still be friends of magical rainbows and marshmallow-pooping unicorns! On the other hand, if you do like yaoi, SIMPLE! KEEP SCROLLING!
Please review, since this is my first fanfiction in a long while.
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It started in the middle of the night, a hot, burning sensation that crawled up Dean's spine and settled over his back. All he felt after that was pain, excruciatingly so, as if someone were trying to rip his shoulder blades from underneath his skin and bare his very soul. He tossed and turned all night, trying to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep on the lumpy motel mattress. Instead, the pain became too much and clouded his senses, finding relief only once he had blacked out during some ungodly hour of the morning.
Waking when light finally filled the sky; he found the pain to be gone. Had he dreamt it? Was it just a horrible flash back from hell? Did Sammy see?
Sam looked as dorky as usual, all gangly limbs and long hair that drooped in his eyes. Nothing out of the ordinary. He didn't make any comments besides a "Good morning" so Dean didn't bring up the issue. Breakfast was quick and greasy as it usually was for Dean, and when he finished he made his way to the bathroom.
He was still so grimy from yesterday's hunt of some sort of swamp spirit, and was glad to finally peel off his nearing rancid shirt. He threw it on the ground in a crumpled pile before something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. There, in the mirror, was himself, his back to be precise. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed that exactly where he had felt the excruciating pain the night before protruded two sets of inky plumes. He tentatively reached around; touching them to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
They were made of puffy black feathers, he concluded, trying to pull one out. But it held fast to his skin, and hurt as if someone was pulling on his hair. Sighing deeply, he knew that if anyone would know about this, it would be Castiel, his angel companion. Deciding to ignore it for now, he stepped into the shower, water falling on the fuzzy feathers sprouting from his back, sending a new wave of sensation to his brain. The new feeling surprised him a little, being unused to it. He was completely baffled and a little freaked out at the whole ordeal… to put it lightly.
Thus, he decided to keep it a secret from Sam, for as long as he possibly could.
When he got out of the shower he quickly put on a clean t-shirt and flannel button-up, then his leather jacket, hoping the layers would hide what was on his back. The brothers went about the next hunt as usual finding a nest of vampires who refused to go 'vegetarian' and taking them out before another pile of human bodies was found discarded and drained.
Castiel made no appearance the entire day, and didn't even stop in to check on them like he normally did at night. Dean was concerned, and a little disappointed, that he hadn't seen the angel yet.
That night was the same as the one before, or possibly worse than, the pain rippling from his shoulder blades out to his entire body. Dean had to bury his face in his pillow; it was so extreme he nearly started to cry out. Rolling onto his stomach, he found it lessened the ache between his shoulders slightly, the origin of his plight, and was in a more comfortable position than the night prior. It still didn't stop him from blacking out sometime in the night.
When the day broke through the window, Dean groaned and rolled over only to roll back on his stomach again. The things on his back seemed to of doubled in size over the night, and he quickly reached behind him to survey his shoulders.
The soft fuzzy feathers that were there yesterday had been replaced with stronger, tougher feathers, and there was a whole new tuft of soft feathers underneath. He looked down on his bed sheets, finding the soft plumage of yesterday scattered about the blankets, stark charcoal blotches against the starch white sheets. Quickly looking around the room to see if his brother had witnessed anything, all he found was a note that said Sam had gone out to the library to conduct some research.
Dean sighed with relief, and swiftly collected up the feathers strewn about the bed. He stuffed them in the garbage can underneath some of the other waste, hoping Sam wouldn't notice. He sat back on the bed and in a growl of frustration tilted his head to the ceiling and spat, "You'd better get your feathery ass down here, Cas!"
A sudden movement behind him made him swivel around on the bed, only to see Castiel crouched down on the sheets, inspecting his back, "I see why you called, Dean. This is very interesting," Castiel stated as monotone as ever.
"Interesting my ass! I'm freakin' out here! What the hell's going on?" Dean exploded, making Castiel recoil slightly from the outburst. He took a deep breath after a look of worry crossed Castiel's face, and aimed his irritated gaze at the stained beige motel room rug instead.
After a moment's pause, Castiel replied with a hint of amusement in his voice, "You're becoming an angel, Dean. You're still just a fledgling, and growing at a faster rate than normal angels do. You'll be very strong when mature," He explained, hand not quite touching Dean's back, "May I?" Castiel queried, asking to touch his new wings.
Dean was still mostly in shock, I mean come on a friggin' angel? All he did was nod numbly in response, Castiel carefully spreading his hands over the black appendages. The hunter sighed, Castiel's hands like cool water over a bad burn. He poked and prodded at Dean, but none of it gave him discomfort until Castiel's deft fingers found something beneath the plumage and squeezed it.
The groan that passed Dean's lips surprised both him and the angel, which was saying something. He hurriedly clamped a hand down over his mouth, eyes wide in shock as he turned to look at Castiel. The angel's face was dusted a light pink as he scrutinized a droplet of something clear that oozed down his fingers.
"Your glands are already producing oil," Casiel stated incredulously, staring at the substance on his hand.
"And that means..." Dean prompted, eyes locking with Castiel.
"It means you're maturing. You seemed to have skipped right over the fledgling state, and are becoming a full-fledged angel. Then again, given the peculiar circumstances to begin with, and how you were born, I'm not surprised," Castiel concluded, rubbing his fingers with the oil on them together, his eyes watching them almost hypnotically before flicking out his tongue and swiping some off. He let out this strangled grunt as the taste hit his tongue, so young and fresh and new.
Dean just stared at him, baffled and a little embarrassed for some odd reason, then blurted, "What the hell was that Cas?!" The baby wings on his back twitched with him in surprise, Castiel moving to the bed across from him to lock eyes with Dean.
"This also means if you do not find a mate soon, angels will flock to you in hopes that they can become that mate. You'll be a beacon of fornication in their eyes..." Castiel trailed off, head tilting to the side, then looked back at Dean, "In my eyes too."
"Whoa woah whoa, you're telling me that I'm about to be the virgin piece of meat fought over by angels? I say let the rat bastards come and kill each other," Dean huffed, still not believing what Castiel was saying, "And I mean, wouldn't it be all chick angels? Why'd you say 'you too'? I'm not gay, Cas."
"That would be unwise. They would know your whereabouts, as well as mine, and that is exactly what we don't want. As for me saying that, we angels do not discriminate against sex. Male or female, it is not of import. I, if I were to be your mate, would choose to wait until your wings were fully grown and mature, others would more than likely take you here and now. And probably impregnate you as well. They would be strangers, I am familiar to you. We do already share a more profound bond than any other." Castiel ended, Dean gawping at him for a good thirty seconds. It was the most Dean had ever heard the angel speak at once, and the topic didn't help his surprise.
He closed his eyes finally, massaging his temples and taking in a deep breath through his nose. He cracked open a curious eye as a whiff of something sweet hit his nostrils, standing out prominently against the stale air of the motel room. It smelled nearly as good as fresh baked pie. Hell, it smelled better. He took another tentative sniff, leaning slightly to the left and right to try and find the source of the scent.
It was only when he leaned forward in Castiel's direction that the smell intensified, the angel's expression deadpan as always, except for the single raised eyebrow. Castiel's eyes closed in understanding and he muttered in a hushed whisper, "You can smell me, can't you?"
At this point Dean was close enough to Castiel to hear him easily, and he leaned back, searching the angel's eyes for more information, "That's you? Why the hell do you smell like the best piece of goddam pie ever?"
"So I smell sweet to you... That was much faster than expected as well," Castiel mused, ignoring Dean.
"Hey! Feather boy! What's going on here?" Dean asked, eyes firm on Castiel.
"You already skipped the fledgling state, which in itself is unheard of, then you imprint on me. Usually this happens post-coitus. Dean, I am honored you chose me," Castiel's lips formed the softest smile Dean had ever seen the angel make, and his new wings twitched slightly behind him in response.
Dean didn't even understand what was happening anymore, and honestly just wanted Castiel out of his hair for a bit to sort out the ten thousand things running marathons in his mind. He was tired from the last two nights of bad sleep, and just wanted a nap. Lying back down on the bed he grumbled, "I need to think this over, I can't even think straight. I need a nap..."
Castiel made no move to leave.
"Cas, shoo," Dean grumbled as he tried to find a decent position on the lumpy motel bed.
"No. I will watch over you while you sleep. It is my duty to protect my prospective mate," Castiel stated evenly, sitting down in the lone chair in the room. Dean grumbled about how unbelievable all this angel crap was before finally dozing off, his back not bothering him in Castiel's presence.
It was about halfway through his nap when the pain started up again, lighting his back on fire. Dean rolled onto his stomach to try and lessen the pain, but to no avail. He called out, and suddenly cool, firm hands were at his back, smoothing and massaging the wings that sprouted there. Fist-fulls of baby feathers fell away from Dean's wings at Castiel's light touch, only to have adult ones sprout in their place. Usually this was a process that took months, and it was happening to Dean in less than a week. No wonder he is in pain, Castiel mused.
Eventually, like the nights before, the pain became too much and Dean blacked out and fell limp in Castiel's arms. His wings had doubled in size again, now spanning nearly four feet in either direction. A second pair had grown from beneath the first two, totaling four wings in all. Castiel had twelve wings himself, and secretly hoped Dean would not grow any more. If he did grow more wings than Castiel, it would make him Dean's underling. He didn't want to think about that.
Of course, it was right at this moment that Sam decided to waltz back into the motel room where he promptly dropped the burger he had brought back for Dean, adding another stain to the rug. He blinked a few times, trying to process what his eyes were relaying to his brain. He looked at Castiel, hoping the angel would confirm or deny his growing insanity.
"Dean has wings?!" He sputtered, refusing to tear his eyes away from the dark appendages sprouting from his brother's back.
"Yes," Was the simple reply given by Castiel, and Sam visibly relaxed at the notion that he was in fact not going bonkers, "He's sleeping right now. He needs his rest. Sam, your brother is now an angel."
Sam blinked a few times, the angel's words slowly making their way into his mind, "My brother is now an angel," he confirmed, voice distant as he tried to wrap his head around the idea.
"You should sit down. You look faint," Castiel stated, pointing at the chair on the other side of the room, which Sam sat heavily in.
Castiel spent the next hour explaining the same thing he had to Dean, not sparing any details. Sam's eyes widened when Castiel told him that Dean had already chosen his mate, his eyes widening further when Castiel told Sam it was the angel himself. Reacting just like his brother, he denied it. Couldn't believe Dean was an angel. But as the idea slowly sank into his skull, he decided it wasn't the worst thing to happen to Dean, hell it was probably one of the best.
Finally groaning and turning over, Dean flailed slightly at the sudden size change of his wings, air and feathers whooshing around the room as he panicked. He eventually opted to lie back on his stomach, wings expanding out to almost touch the ceiling. Peering out beneath the expanse of onyx feathers, he first saw Castiel with a pink tinge to his face, then to his horror, his brother.
"You should fold your wings back, Dean," Castiel stated with a slight shake to his voice, which he then dropped to a whisper as he leaned in, "Your glands are showing and I might not be able to resist."
A small zing of something trailed up Dean's spine as Castiel said this, and he immediately tested out his new muscles, and with some effort, brought his wings close to his body where he could feel them all the way down his back. Castiel relaxed slightly next to him, letting out a small sigh as he closed his eyes. It was only when the angel's mesmerizing gaze was torn away that Dean remembered his brother in the room.
"How much do you know?" Dean asked, unsure of how Sam was reacting to all this. Castiel's azure eyes opened themselves once more and Dean felt his heart jump strangely. He ignored it and looked to his brother for a reply.
"Castiel told me everything, Dean," he scoffed, standing up and starting to pace the room, "I couldn't believe it a first, but looking at you now… What the hell man? How does this even happen?"
Dean sat up with some discomfort as he tried to acclimate himself to the sudden feeling and new muscles that lay on his back, turning toward his brother, "Dude, I don't even know myself. Cas here doesn't seem to be able to explain it either, so it looks like we're in a bit of a pickle. And I know for a fact that we ain't going to find any information about it from Bobby either, or any other place for that matter," he turned to Castiel, his wings twitching as if threatening to open as he laid his eyes on him, and he had to take a steady breath before continuing, "You know of anyone we can ask about this, Cas? I mean, come on, I can't be the first human-turned-angel."
Breaking eye contact with Dean, Castiel looked at his hands, then up at Sam, "In all of my years of existence, I have never heard even the whispers of rumors about humans turning to angels," he turned his steady gaze back to Dean, "And I have learned everything about the history of the universe.
"But," he continued, swiveling back to Sam, "If there was anyone who might know something, it would be my brother," he finished evenly, the slightest bit of hesitancy flickering in his eyes.
Sam and Dean visibly tensed at the angel's words, knowing full well who he was talking about.
Gabriel.