Here is some just fluff for everyone! So this one shot is in the same verse as my stories "Katabasis" and "The Thing with Feathers", it actually comes after the other short one shot I did "Colder Weather". You don't *have* to have read those to enjoy this, but you might wish to if you would like the context behind this story. However, feel free to read as you wish ^_^
Next Friday I will be posting the start of another story in this verse, which will be a three shot case fic!
Flight Lessons
A Supernatural Fanfic
Sequel to "The Thing with Feathers" Cas' wings have fully grown back, but he hasn't tried to fly again yet. Of course, cut off from heaven, it's a little different this time, which means he's going to have to learn how to use his wings all over again. No Slash (Katabasis Verse #4)
It was spring. The bitter South Dakota winter had finally given way to green new growth, cool, crisp breezes, and warm sunshine. Castiel breathed it in appreciatively. With the change of the season, he felt new life in himself too. Yes, he might still carry the scars from Hell, and that didn't mean his nightmares had totally stopped either, but he was coping a lot better than he had been several months ago. Healing his body had gone a long way to the start of healing his mind.
Now he had taken to accompanying Sam and Dean and Bobby on most of their hunts, having learned with his lack of grace much more about physical hunting, and they had all been patient mentors to him.
His wings were in peak condition too. He had just shed the last of his extra winter down and so now his wings were back to being sleek, pearly black, and felt stronger than ever.
Right now, he was indulging in one of his new favorite pastimes since the weather had mellowed out. He climbed up onto Bobby's roof and sat there, spreading his wings in the warm sun as he read or researched a current hunt.
Today, he was reading a novel because they had no new hunt to research for. Sam and Dean were actually just on their way back from a vampire case in Illinois. It hadn't warranted more than the two of them, so Castiel had stayed back to help Bobby with the phones, which he had learned how to do while he was still recovering enough to go out in the field again.
The weather simply couldn't be nicer. The breeze still held a slight chill that nipped pleasantly through the sweater he was wearing, which was a nice contrast to the warmth his wings were gathering from the sun. He was grateful Bobby's property was secluded enough so that he could indulge in this without fearing he would be seen. It was actually rather nice sometimes to have wings that were more corporeal than not anymore. Even though they got cramped the longer he kept them invisible, the reward when he stretched and sunned them was even more pleasurable. Kind of like taking shoes off after a long day.
The only thing he missed was flying. After his wings had healed, he had attempted to fly through the ether like he used to with his wings incorporeal and his grace lending speed to his flight as he took the ethereal slipstreams. But he couldn't even get off the ground. Apparently that had gone away with his ability to smite demons and heal humans. He tried not to let it depress him, but he couldn't help but think it was just one more thing he couldn't do to help his friends out on hunts. He had mostly accepted the rest; the fact he had to eat and sleep, even if not quite in the quantities that humans did, the fact he had to use human methods to fight and heal.
He'd had to adapt a lot. And it had been hard at first, hard enough there had been a few times where he had almost given up completely, but Sam and Dean, and Bobby had been there right beside him through the whole thing. They were his family, they had taken care of him at his worst and pulled him out of that depression he had been desperately drowning in for longer than he may have at first realized.
The thought of adapting suddenly brought an idea to Castiel, and he looked up from his book thoughtfully. His wings acted in a mortal way now, like a typical bird, at least as far as he could tell. Perhaps he could still fly if he used them while they were corporeal.
After all, they were proportionate to his human body and they were a lot stronger than they had been after the tortures he endured in Hell. The thought just simply hadn't crossed his mind before.
He set his book aside and stood up, spreading his wings to either side of him and giving them a cautious flap. The feathers held taught, and scooped up the air almost enough to lift him off his feet right there. Castiel smiled and gave several more experimental flaps, hopping slightly. He recalled flight lessons as a fledgling, how his older brothers and sisters had coaxed him and his nestmates to practice short flights by hopping and then move on to running leaps. It had been millennia since he had done this, but the instinct took over, even if using his wings in their corporeal state was a little more clumsy feeling to him than flight on the ethereal plane was.
Castiel glanced at the edge of the roof and stepped back to the opposite side. He may as well just go for it; after all, what was the worst thing that could happen?
He flared his wings, then flapped them as he took a running start, and as soon as he got to the edge of the roof, he leapt off, flapping several times for lift.
For a moment, there was a beautiful feeling of weightlessness. He could feel the air under his wings, lifting him up…
Until he couldn't. The wind slipped right from under his feathers and as much as his wings tried to regain the lost air, they couldn't. Castiel plummeted head over heels toward the ground.
The impact knocked the breath from him and he felt sharp pain from his left arm. It took him a moment to realize even what had happened. He simply lay in a helpless heap of tangled limbs and feathers.
He suddenly heard a door slam open and footsteps running over to him.
"What the hell?" Bobby demanded. "Cas?"
Castiel groaned and rolled onto his side, folding his wings behind him to keep them out of the way as he attempted to push himself upright.
"You fall off the roof, son?" Bobby demanded, reaching down to help him up.
"No, I jumped," Castiel said bitterly. "I was attempting to fly, but it didn't work."
Bobby just shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly, as he pulled Castiel to his feet. The angel took stock of himself. His wings were unharmed, just a little ruffled, but his left wrist had not been so lucky.
He cradled it to his chest as pain started to radiate from it in earnest. "I think I broke my wrist," he said in defeat.
Bobby rolled his eyes fully skyward with a heavy sigh. "Balls."
It could have been worse; if Castiel had broke a wing, that would have laid him up for another couple weeks at least, and the Winchesters and Bobby would have had to figure out how to set it properly and it would have been infuriating keeping it still that long. As it was, Cas would probably only need to wear the cast on his arm for a week or so since he at least still healed faster than a normal human.
Bobby had taken him to the emergency room to get it properly set and looked at since, for once, he didn't actually have to do it himself. Castiel was human enough to pass as one right now, after all, and did actually run the risk of something healing poorly if it wasn't taken care of.
"It won't be so bad," Bobby told him on the drive home as Castiel held his arm awkwardly in a sling. "Especially since you probably won't have to have that on for very long. And at least it was your left wrist."
Castiel didn't really see Bobby's silver lining. After all, before he fell he could have healed something like this within seconds. But, this was his life now and he supposed he should get used to it.
By the time they got back, the Impala was parked in the driveway and Sam and Dean were unloading their gear from the hunt. Castiel sighed, and hesitated getting out. He wasn't really looking forward to explaining what happened to them. It was rather embarrassing.
"Why don't you go inside and get comfy until those pain meds wear off a little?" Bobby suggested. "I'm gonna start something for dinner."
"Hey Bobby!" Sam called. "Wondered where you and Cas were."
"Yeah, we had to run into town, Cas had a little accident."
Castiel had reluctantly slid out of the car, unable to help revealing the cast and sling now. Sam and Dean's eyes widened.
"Cas, what the hell happened?" Dean demanded, instantly protective.
"It was just an accident," Castiel mumbled, trying to push past his surrogate brothers to get to the house but Dean caught his shoulder.
"How do you just accidently break your arm? You fall off the roof or something?" the elder Winchester asked.
Castiel ducked his head and was sure his face was red with embarrassment. Dean's eyes widened.
"You fell off the roof?" he demanded.
Indignation bristled up in Castiel. "I didn't fall off the roof as such, Dean, I was trying to fly."
"You were trying to…?" Dean looked confused then he covered his mouth with a hand and half-turned but not before Cas could see the laugh lines crinkle up around his eyes. That just made him angrier.
"Why shouldn't I be able to? What good are these ridiculous wings if they can't even do anything useful?" he growled and shoved past Dean, stomping up onto Bobby's porch.
"Cas, hey," Sam hurried up after a sharp reprimand to his brother. "You know Dean's an ass, but are you okay?"
Castiel sighed. "Yes, I'm fine. My wrist will probably heal within a week, it's my pride that's hurt worse."
Sam gave him a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I know. Just take it easy for a while."
Castiel sighed again. Yes, that seemed to be the only thing he did these days: 'take it easy'. He had hoped that after his wings fully recovered he wouldn't have to sit out hunts anymore because he was injured. Speaking of wings, he needed to groom his after the fall. He could feel several of the feathers uncomfortably out of place. He turned reluctantly to Sam.
"Sam, do you think…?" he looked down with a sigh, holding up his cast. "My wings…"
Sam nodded in understanding. "Of course, Cas."
Castiel pulled his wings into existence with a sigh of relief, and turned his back to Sam as the younger Winchester help his set his feathers straight.
"No broken ones," Sam assured him happily when he was done and Castiel was more comfortably able to put them back onto the ethereal plane. "That better?"
"Much," Castiel replied gratefully.
"Good. How about a cup of coffee?"
"That would be nice."
As Sam went to get the coffee, he slumped sullenly on the couch, picking up his book and trying to concentrate on it. He pretended to ignore Dean when he came into the room, until the hunter walked over and sat on the coffee table opposite Castiel.
"Hey, man, I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to laugh earlier," he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
Castiel peeked over his book a bit distrustfully but Dean looked sincere. The elder Winchester went on.
"You know, when Sammy was little, we were playing superheroes and he jumped off a roof and broke his wrist too. I had to carry him to the ER on my handlebars." Dean shook his head at the memory. "Boy was Dad pissed at that." Dean gave a wry smile. "But you are okay, right man?"
Castiel closed his book and finally turned to Dean. "Of course, I'm fine," he ground out. "I'm not thrilled to have this cast on, but I'll recover soon enough. I'm just tired of being this…whatever I am. Angel, human, I don't even know anymore, but I'm not good at being either."
"Cas, that's not true!" Dean said firmly.
Castiel looked away from him, jaw tight. Dean would never truly understand what he was going through. No one would.
"Look," Dean went on. "You've taken a lot of hits lately, and I know you're still trying to figure things out for yourself. But no matter what, we're here for you, man. Just take the opportunity to relax for a few days. You'll probably feel better after that."
Castiel grunted, but didn't say anything. Dean gave a barely audible sigh and stood before Bobby came into the room.
"Grub's up," he said.
Castiel stood too, but walked to the kitchen dejectedly. He didn't have Dean's optimism that he would feel better in a couple days.
Dean and the others kept a close eye on Cas for the next couple days after that conversation, and to be honest, he didn't really like what he saw. While Cas' arm didn't necessarily seem to be bothering him all that much, the angel seemed to be in a melancholy mood that Dean hadn't seen since he was recovering from his Hell injuries. He'd thought Cas had gotten over his depression. He'd been doing well the last few months, even smiling more than he ever had before they'd pulled him out of Hell. Sam and Dean had stepped up to the plate as his surrogate brothers, and Bobby had taken on a very paternal role with the angel, teaching him the finer points of hunting and research, which Cas had taken to almost naturally.
Bottom line, he'd seemed content, if not always happy, but he certainly hadn't been this depressed in a long time. Not even after he'd first found out he couldn't fly. Now all he did was sit in Bobby's house all day, either reading or watching crappy soap operas on the television. Yeah, if this went on too much longer, Dean was going to have to pull an intervention.
"Do you think he could actually fly?" Sam asked as he and Dean prepped for dinner one night, Sam assembling a salad he insisted should go with the spaghetti.
Bobby, who was rummaging in the fridge for a beer, shrugged. "His wings are perfectly fine. I don't see any reason why he couldn't fly on them if he wanted to. I just don't think jumping off the roof is the best option for learning how."
"Well, do you think we can help him figure it out, Bobby?" Dean asked. "I mean, how do birds do it? Obviously it's a gradual process."
"But Cas knows how to fly," Sam said. "I mean, I assume he had to learn at some point. He talked about being a 'fledgling' in Heaven, growing his feathers for the first time, so there must have been some entry-point lessons he did. We just have to coach him into relearning."
"And if it turns out he can't fly the way he is now?" Dean asked. "That would just crush him all over again. Maybe it's best to let this one go after all."
But Sam shook his head determinedly. "I don't think we should. This could be the one thing that Cas can truly relearn how to do. Maybe not the same way as he used to, but…I just can't imagine how it would feel being able to fly and then having that taken away."
"We'll think about it a little," Bobby said, heading back out to the study. "Anything to get him to stop watching those damned soaps."
Dean just wanted Cas to feel like himself again. After all the progress they had made, the last thing he wanted was to see Cas fall into a dangerous bout of depression once more.
About a week and a half after Cas' accident, he informed them that his arm had healed completely so Dean took him out to the garage and took a rotary saw to his cast. He'd hoped Cas would feel a little better after getting the clunky cast off, but it didn't seem like that was going to be the case. Cas' mood didn't seem to change much at all.
Dean and Sam had to practically drag him out on a case to hunt a rugaru, but it didn't take nearly long enough in Dean's opinion, and the thing had been super easy to find and kill, leaving them right back at square one with no hunts and a depressed angel.
However, when they got back to Sioux Falls, Bobby pulled him and Sam aside that night.
"You two feel up to a little road trip with Cas tomorrow?" he asked.
Dean shrugged. "Sure, Bobby, is there another hunt?"
The older hunter shook his head. "No, but I think I may have found something to help Feathers. Called in a favor with a friend of mine."
Sam frowned. "What did you find?"
Bobby shook his head. "You'll see."
Dean and Sam were baffled as to what Bobby could have possibly found that might help Cas learn to fly again, but the next morning, they woke up early and Dean told Cas to pack a bag for a couple days.
"Where are we going?" he asked, looking less than enthused to be leaving again.
"Not sure," Dean replied honestly. "Bobby says it's a surprise."
Cas frowned, and yeah the idea of Bobby coming up with a surprise was bizarre, but he did as he was told and pretty soon the four of them were piling into Bobby's van and heading out of town.
Dean was just as baffled as everyone else when Bobby eventually pulled up to a small airport in the middle of nowhere. Did Bobby think flying in a plane could help Cas?
"What is this, Bobby?" Sam asked.
"You'll see," the older man said, just a cryptically as he had been about this whole thing. He parked the van and climbed out. Dean and the others followed and as Dean looked up, he saw that a man was coming out of one of the hangers to speak with them.
"Bobby Singer," he called, and clasped the old hunter's hand firmly. "It's been a long time since I've seen you! You still hunting what goes bump in the night?"
"Yeah, well, unfortunately, evil doesn't sleep," Bobby told him then turned toward the rest of them. "These are my nephews, Sam and Dean, and that's Castiel. Boys, this is Jim Walsh—helped him out on a haunting a few years back."
"Nice to meet you," Sam said first, stepping forward.
Jim greeted all of them in turn, and his eyes widened as he shook Cas' hand. "Castiel, Bobby told me about you, and, wow, you're the angel." He chuckled nervously, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I knew there's some crazy things in this world but I never really thought angels existed."
Cas shrugged self-consciously. "It's probably best to keep it that way. But it's good to meet a friend of Bobby's."
"Likewise, he's told me a lot about you boys," Jim smiled and nodded to Bobby again. "Anyway, come on, let me show you around."
Bobby followed him and nodded to the boys. Dean put a hand on Cas' shoulder as the angel looked baffled.
"I don't understand," he said as they walked. "What are we doing here? Why did Bobby tell him about me?"
"I think Bobby's got a surprise for you," Dean told him and when Cas shot him a questioning look, he held up his hands. "Hey, I don't know anymore than you do!"
They all piled into a golf cart and drove to the other side of the small airport to a large building that looked like a warehouse at the end of the lot. Jim pulled the golf cart up in front of it and climbed out.
"Here we are," he said. "Come on inside."
They followed him and Bobby in, and found themselves in a room with a panel of controls and a large glass window that covered the majority of the wall. Jim flipped a switch and lights turned on behind the glass, revealing a large, seemingly empty room.
"What is this?'' Dean asked, still in the dark.
"It's a wind tunnel," Bobby told them. "They're made to simulate air currents for research and development on airplanes, but I figured it could also help someone get back into the habit of flying. Kind of like a lap pool."
Dean and Sam both turned toward Cas who looked completely baffled, but also honestly touched.
"You…you thought of this for me?" he asked hesitantly.
Bobby shook his head. "'Course, son. You know I take care of my boys."
Cas' face started to crumple but quickly turned into an honest smile. The first one Dean had seen in days. "Thank you."
"Enough of the sap," Bobby said gruffly, but Dean could see the smile in his eyes. "Why don't you go in there and try it out?"
"I would love that," Cas replied and Jim headed over to explain what it would be like to him.
Dean and Sam turned to Bobby with grins on their faces.
"Bobby, you old softie," Dean teased.
"Shut up, idjit," Bobby told him. "Like I said. Cas is family, and I'm done with seeing him mope around."
"Still, that was a really good idea," Sam added.
"Let's hope it works," Bobby said.
Castiel was still baffled as to how he had gotten here. Obviously, he had gotten to the point where he knew he had been accepted into the Winchesters' family, but these acts of kindness from them toward him still baffled him.
Jim explained to them all about how the wind tunnel worked and he ran it through its paces so Castiel could see the ribbon in the room and see how the currents moved. He then handed the angel a pair of goggles and told him he could go in.
Castiel slipped the goggled over his eyes, and shrugged out of his jacket. He was glad he had worn one of his shirts with the wing slits in it, maybe, if his wings were useful again, he would have to do that with all his jackets too. But he was getting ahead of himself. He may not be able to fly at all. He followed Jim into the wind tunnel and stood in the middle of the long room.
The man brought out a tether, and a belt that was attached to the wall and told Castiel to secure it around his waist so he could fly steadily in one place and not be thrown around by the wind.
"Just give us a signal when you're ready," the man said, holding up his thumb in demonstration. "We'll start off on a low setting and if you want us to go up, you can signal us to do that."
"Thank you," Castiel told him, and pulled his wings from the ethereal place, stretching them out in readiness. Jim's eyes blew wide at the sight, but he grinned and headed back to the other room.
Castiel stepped back so there was slack in the tether and gave his wings a couple experimentory flaps before he turned to the glass panel, seeing everyone on the other side. He took a deep breath, and then gave them a thumb's up.
The whir and rush of a giant fan was heard through the room, and he felt the wind start battering him, streaking through his feathers. He instinctively positioned his wings so they would cut through the air. He stretched them out and accustomed them to the wind for a few seconds, before starting to flap them cautiously. He took several hops as he did so, remembering his training as a fledgling. But there wasn't quite enough wind to pick him up at the moment, so he turned to the window, seeing everyone's anxious faces, and motioned for them to put it on a higher setting.
The wind came with more force and he almost staggered backwards, but his wings were picking it up, billowing out on either side of him and Castiel flapped them experimentally. He took long hops this time, his wings gathering the wind and lifting him off the ground. Then he took a deep breath, ran forward several paces while flapping his wings and leapt.
There was a breathless moment as he started to fall back toward the ground, but his wings caught the pockets of air, and cushioned his fall. When he flapped again, he stayed above the ground.
He was airborne.
Castiel couldn't help a shout of delight as he flapped his wings and they held him aloft, his body parallel to the ground. He glanced over to the window and saw Sam and Dean grinning and shouting at him in excitement and encouragement. He grinned back. He stretched his arms out to his sides, feeling the wind comb through his fingers as well. In a lot of ways, this wasn't much different than flying through the ethereal plane, but he had been less aware of his psychical body when he used to fly. This was much more like when he had first learned to fly as a fledgling and there was something joyous about it. He attempted zigzagging as much as he could in the room, practicing small banking turns.
He got a bit overzealous, and tried tucking his wings in, to do a barrel roll, but was too close to the ground and lost the wind under his wings, so he crashed in an undignified heap.
He heard the fans powering down as he climbed to his hands and knees, but was unable to stop smiling.
The door opened and footsteps ran over to him, someone helping him up.
"Cas, you good?" Dean asked with concern.
Castiel was on his feet, a bit breathless but grinning at the brothers. "I'm perfectly fine. It seems I overreached a little in my current skills."
Sam grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "But you're doing so well! Cas, you're actually flying!"
Seeing their excitement warmed his heart. He couldn't really believe it either. Something inside him felt like it had been released. Something he hadn't realized had been hurting him was now gone. He felt so much lighter than he had since Sam and Dean had rescued him from Hell, since he had been cut off from Heaven. He may still be cut off, but he could fly again, and that in itself was enough.
"Are you ready to go again?" Dean asked.
Castiel nodded, eager. "Very much so."
He spent the rest of the afternoon in the wind tunnel getting the feel of flying again, until his wings trembled with the overexertion from their long term of not being used. He thought he would probably be sore the next day, but he wouldn't regret it at all. He would obviously have to build his strength up again, but this was actually a perfect way to do it.
They went to the diner on the airport lot where all the pilots ate, and had dinner. Castiel ate heartily for the first time in days, hungry from the effort he had put in that day.
Dean brought him a beer and held his up with a smile. "Here's to a successful day of flying," he said.
Castiel smiled and clinked the bottles together before he glanced over the table at Bobby. "Thank you, Bobby. This really meant a lot."
The hunter shrugged dismissively. "Just glad it worked."
Castiel shifted slightly and then asked. "Are, we…staying the night?"
"Sure," Bobby said. "Thought we could stay for a couple days at least. Until you get enough practice."
Castiel smiled. "Thank you. I actually wanted to ask Jim about something. But tomorrow. I'm actually rather exhausted."
Dean chuckled. "I can imagine. We'll grab a motel room after this."
That night Castiel slept better in the motel bed than he had for days, pleasantly exhausted from the day's workout and wrapped comfortably in his own wings. He dreamed of flying.
The next day, Cas went right back to the wind tunnel after breakfast, practicing his flying again, and then went to find Jim to talk about whatever he had wanted to the night before.
When he told Dean what he had planned the elder Winchester, started to protest.
"Cas, are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you just started flying again…"
"I have to get a handle on it somehow, Dean," Cas told him.
Dean wasn't exactly happy about it, but he was willing to give Cas the benefit of the doubt. He had been doing well in the wind tunnel and it wasn't like he'd never flown before.
"Just be safe," he said finally.
Cas smiled. "You and Sam can come too. They have parachutes—"
"No—definitely no," Dean said quickly, shaking his head. He didn't ever want to have to use a parachute, let alone strap one to his back for fun.
So Dean, Sam and Bobby found themselves standing out in the middle of a huge field outside the airport, looking up at Jim's plane circling overhead. The next time it came around, the side door opened and a figure could be seen looking out.
"There he goes," Bobby shook his head. "Crazy son of a bitch."
Dean nearly had a heart attack as he watched Cas leap out of the plane and fall, wings streamlined to his back like a falcon. He heard Sam's breath catch in his throat too and was sure something was wrong.
But then Cas' wings opened, halting his free-fall, and he banked to one side, flapping so that he went higher and higher and then tucked his wings in again, rocketing down before he once again opened them and flew in a glorious arc across the sky.
Sam was laughing, hands in the air as he waved them at Cas. Dean's knees finally stopped shaking and he grinned, pumping a fist in the air himself. Bobby stood with his arms folded over his chest, a pleased look on his face.
Cas spun and banked and did a million fancy maneuvers that made the hunters gape in awe. But it was how free he looked, how carefree, that really showed to Dean. He had never truly seen Cas enjoy himself like this and it lifted something in his heart as well.
Finally, Cas swooped down closer to the ground and swept right over the hunters' heads. He banked back around in a long circle, the tip of one wing brushing the grass below before he pulled up, flapping a couple times, before landing softly on his feet.
"Cas, that was amazing," Sam gushed instantly, looking a little envious.
Cas couldn't stop grinning. His wings shimmered in the morning sun, feathers bristling in his own joy. "It's not quite the same as before, but…it fills me with joy." Cas suddenly surged forward and enveloped all three of the hunters in a hug with both his arms and his wings. "Thank you. All of you. You nursed me back to health and made being fallen not quite so bad. Actually, I…I think I've never truly been happier."
Dean couldn't help but smile, clapping Cas on the back between his wings. "That's what family's for, Cas," he said simply.
Cas pulled away, flaring his wings again. "I'll meet you back at the airfield." And then he flapped a couple times, taking several running steps and was airborne.
Bobby shook his head. "We're never gonna get him to stay on the ground again."
Sam grinned. "That's okay. He's happy."
"Though, we will have to make sure he doesn't frighten any of the pilots who have no idea what he is," Dean said.
They all piled into the golf cart they had driven out there and headed back to the airport. Dean glanced up at the sky and saw Cas happily coasting along. He smiled to himself. It seemed like for the first time ever, something good had come out of something bad. Maybe their lives were finally looking up after all.