Snowflakes drifted lightly down into a clearing of white crystals. Well, mostly white, because there was that spot where Dean was lying, the snow was stained red by his blood. He was dying again, damn it. And not even from something awesome, like hellhounds or Satan or those douchebag Archangels. Taken out by one frickin' werewolf.
This was supposed to be a routine werewolf hunt. Easy peasy lemon fucking squeezy. Instead Dean was lying in a clearing in the middle of nowhere while he slowly froze to death and his warm blood gushed out from the gash in his side. And even worse, he had no fucking idea what happened to the werewolf. He managed to stick a silver blade in its side before he collapsed so hopefully it crawled off and died somewhere else.
"C-Cas…" Dean choked out. He'd already been praying for hours to no avail. Well, it felt like an hour. But suddenly Dean heard the flutter of wings. Finally.
"Dean!" He heard Cas yell in his gravelly voice.
"Took you long enough." Dean coughed out, blood splattered the snow. He felt a warm hand cover the gash on his side and the wound immediately was healed. But Dean still felt as cold as the snow clinging to his clothes. Cas picked Dean up in his arms and held him like a baby, pressed close to his chest. Dean looked up and saw concern and anger on Cas' usually emotionless face. He decided not to argue about being carried.
"C-c-can't ya d-do an-ny m-moj-jo s-s-so I d-don' f-f-feel l-like a h-human p-pop-s-sicle." Dean's teeth chattered.
"Healing you used my "mojo" as you put it." There was the sound of beating wings and then Cas and Dean were standing in a motel room. It wasn't much warmer in here than it was in side. Cas helped Dean stand. "Strip." Cas commanded.
"W-What?!" Dean yelled, feeling heat rush to his cheeks.
"You're clothes are soaked Dean, they will only make you colder. Take them off."
"N-Not while you're h-here!"
"I rebuilt your body Dean. There is not a freckle or a birthmark that I haven't seen before. Now stop acting childish and take off your clothes or I'll do it for you." Dean's face turned bright red with embarrassment. He wondered if Cas knew how creepy that sounded.
"F-fine b-but I'm k-keeping m-my un-underw-wear o-on."
"Agreeable." Cas nodded. Dean felt really uncomfortable changing in front of Cas. He didn't even look away, and Dean felt to awkward to ask him to. He slipped of his boots and socks using his feet. Dean's numb fingers fumbled with the zipper of his jeans. He got it unzipped and tugged his pants down his legs and kicked them off with his feet. He then tried forcing his cold hands to tug the shirt off. The wet sleeves stuck to his arms and he struggled with it for a minute. Cas stepped forward to help but Dean hissed "I-I g-got i-i-it." So he backed up and Dean finally ripped it off and tossed it on the floor. He did all of that under the intensity of Cas' gaze. Luckily his boxers weren't too wet so he could keep those on.
"Get under the blankets." Cas ordered. Dean didn't think it would help much, because the motel room's thin sheets wouldn't warm him up in the cold room. Stupid cheap non-working motel heaters. Dean crawled into the bed and hid his almost naked body under the covers. Cas took off his trench coat and somehow undid his blue tie.
"C-cas w-what th-the f-f-fuck are y-you d-d-doing." Dean practically screeched. Cas ignored him and unbuttoned his suit. "C-CAS S-ST-STOP!" by now Cas had the top of his suit off and was wearing just the black dress pants. "C-CA-" Dean heard the sound of unfurling wings and his cold breath left him. He was shocked into silence, well; his chattering teeth weren't being silent.
Huge black wings were sprouting from Cas' back. Dean could only watch as Cas approached and pulled off the covers. He climbed onto the queen sized bed, lying down about a foot away from Dean's face, and covered him with one large wing. Dean was shocked by how warm and soft it was. Each long, silky feather was the color of midnight, black with a purple and blue sheen. The wing radiated heat. Within a minute of being covered by it Dean stopped shivering. He inhaled the scent, he couldn't pin it down exactly but it reminded him of fresh apple pie. The wing covered him completely, from the downy feathers that tickled his neck to the longer ones that spread over his feet, surrounding him in a warm, comforting cocoon.
"I apologize about my intentions being unclear. I believed this would be the fastest way to bring your body temperature back to the human normal." Cas said gruffly.
"Umm… it's okay." Dean murmured weakly. He wanted to ask about Cas' wings. But he didn't want Cas to get offended. His curiosity got the better of him. "I thought angels had true forms, how do you have wings like this? And aren't angel wings supposed to be white?" Dean mentally slapped himself for the last question. He heard a voice in his head say oh my god Karen, you can't just ask angels why their wings aren't white. Cas glared at him.
"Angels in vessels can form a bird-like version of our true form's wings for, er- special occasions." What the fuck is that supposed to mean Dean thought. "And angel wings come in many different colors. But black wings like mine are uncommon." Cas looked uncomfortable. "Black wings are considered plain and ugly for angels." Cas said bitterly. Dean stroked a feather.
"I think they're beautiful, Cas." Dean said softly, then froze when he realized what he said. He glanced at Cas' face and saw a ghost of a smile on his lips, so he relaxed.
"You should get some sleep, Dean." Cas said softly. Dean was really tired.
"Okay. Goodnight Cas." He yawned and couldn't resist snuggling into the soft feathers. And he soon drifted into sleep.
Cas smiled softly at his sleeping friend. "Goodnight Dean." He said quietly, kissing Dean on the forehead, and wrapped his wings further around him.