Okay, this was kind of a late night inspiration that overcame me… Sorry for silliness and weirdness and any errors that might have snuggled their way into this.

So I saw this discussion ages ago on Tumblr over where Gabriel might have sent Cas during the Changing Channels episode, and while re-watching the episode this came to my mind. Doesn't make much sense, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless?

And it kinda turned into a sort of parody of my own fic The Shape of Wings (not really parody, but something like that?)… it's not necessary to have read that (though you can still go and check it out?) :)

Enjoy!

Dean's eyes turned from the spot where Cas had stood just seconds ago to glare at Gabriel "Where did you send him?"

"Relax, he'll live…"he said in a disinterested tone. "Maybe."

One second Castiel had been there, in a crappy TV show, bound by Gabriel and trying to warn Sam and Dean, and the next second he was not there. Instead, he was here. Wherever here was.

It looked just like any other motel room where Dean and Sam might spend the night or the week or however long their hunt might take.

Castiel was used to these by now. Dean had called him more than once while they were in one of these, and besides, he had come often enough on his own to watch over Dean while he was sleeping.

The room he was in now looked just like any one of those rooms. Just that it didn't.

It wasn't quite the same, although he couldn't really pinpoint what was different. Maybe it was the smell, or maybe the taste, or the breeze or the feeling it gave him, or maybe it was the absence of all that.

Yes, that had to be it, decided Cas. This was too simple, there weren't enough details. It looked fake.

But how could a room that definitely was real to the touch feel so not-real? That was a mystery even for Castiel.

Suddenly the door burst open and Dean marched in. And even Dean didn't seem real. It wasn't so much that he looked fake, it just didn't feel real, didn't feel at all. He was used to feeling people, feeling their souls, their essence of being. But now?

Nothing.

It felt as if Dean was a puppet, only moving because the strings attached to his arms and legs were being moved by someone. It felt as if Dean was out of plastic or cloth or another fabric but not flesh and bones. It felt as if Dean was a fragment of his imagination, there but not really there. It felt as if Dean was a fleeting image in the wind only created for Cas' mind to see. It felt as if Dean wasn't real.

But he was.

Castiel could see him.

The bed was jolted and Cas looked up only to see Dean looking at him with wide eyes.

"C's" he slurred, eyes never leaving Castiel but not really fixed on his face either.

Castiel turned around to see what Dean was looking at but felt that he couldn't really move. Well, he could move, but he couldn't move his body. Well, it felt as if he was moving his body but in fact he wasn't. He could still see himself sitting on the bed as he had been seconds before he had moved.

And that was when he saw what Dean was staring at. His wings.

But Dean wasn't supposed to see them. They couldn't be seen by any human unless the angel wanted them to, and even then they weren't supposed to be visible in their real form but just as shadows. Only in heaven could anyone, human or angel, see the wings for what they really were. But there was Dean staring at Cas' wings.

Dean stood up, slowly, as if dreading that what he was seeing would disappear if he just moved too suddenly. Castiel kind of hoped that it would, because this could not be real. This could not be happening right now. This was against everything that he had learned, this was physically not possible.

Still, it was happening.

"Am I supposed to see them?" asked Dean, nearly as disbelieving as Castiel himself.

"No" he felt himself answer, even though he hadn't wanted to say that. What was wrong with him?

"Then why…?" continued Dean to ask but Cas felt himself interrupt him.

"I don't know"

Well, at least that was true. But Cas had not given his body the order to say that. To say any of that, for that matter. He wasn't in control of his own body.

Castiel was thrown out of his own thoughts as Dean sat back down on the bed, his eyes never leaving Cas, or rather his wings.

Suddenly, Cas felt the urge to scoot closer to Dean. No, he didn't feel it, his body did. But his body never felt anything. His body never felt anything without his mind feeling it too. But now it did.

And again, it moved without his say so.

It moved closer to Dean, so that Dean was only an arm length away from him. If he would extend his arm he would be able to touch Dean. Touch him and maybe guide his hand towards his wings, so that he could touch them, so that Castiel could feel Dean's hand on his wings…

Why was he thinking that?

But without any way to prevent it, his hand moved up and did exactly what his mind had demanded only seconds ago. It extended, took Dean's hand and guided it towards Castiel's wings before it was hovering only inches away from them.

"Cas" Dean spoke for the first time in a while and Castiel nearly jumped off the bed at the surprise, only that he felt that he couldn't move anymore.

"It's okay."

Couldn't move except for whatever his body seemed to want to do, even though he didn't want to. Didn't consciously want to.

Just as he now didn't want his wings to get closer and closer to Dean's outstretched fingers, although he really wanted them to touch Dean's finger.

And then they did.

The feeling made not only Cas' body shudder but his whole being marvelled at that touch. He forced his eyes open again, not remembering when he had closed them. He met Dean's eyes and without thinking twice he said:

"You may"

Dean's eyes widened and if Cas had had any control over his body, his would have too. Why had he said that? But he didn't actually disagree with his body.

"It's pleasant for me" he felt his lips usher and he did agree with his body. He longed for that touch, the few seconds hadn't been enough.

"You like it" stated Dean slightly in awe.

Cas felt himself smile.

"Yes, Dean, I like it. That's what pleasant usually means." He felt that he agreed more and more with what his body did and said. "It's quite agreeable. No one has caressed them in a long time." No one had done that in a very, very long time. In fact, he didn't remember anyone doing that to him since he was barely a fledgling.

As Dean carded his fingers through Castiel's wings all he could do was try to supress any reaction, even though he wasn't sure that a reaction would actually show on his body.

"Please don't stop" he felt himself say, and even though he would have never said those words out aloud he couldn't help but agree with his disobedient body. "Don't ever stop."

And then everything went black.

I'm starting way too many stories at once, I know, I know… But oh well.

Want to hear more? I've got some ideas, if anyone is interested. Tell me what you think! :)