I don't own Dean or Cas. They belong to the creators of Supernatural.

January 17, 2010

"What do you mean, he won't come?" Dean stared incredulously at the woman in front of him. A group meeting was about to start and Castiel was expected to attend. The angel was an invaluable member, a powerful protective force for the community and an absolute haven of knowledge and strength. The older woman shrugged and bit her lip.

"He's got his door locked, and all his windows are blacked out. I told him about the meeting, said you needed to talk to him, everything. He won't answer. I can hear him moving around in there, so..I dunno. Maybe you can flush him out? You seem to have this way with him." she added hopefully. Dean sighed and rose in his seat. He patted her shoulder.

"Go start without me. We'll be there soon," he called back as he pulled on his jacket and stomped out the door.

The ground was slush beneath his feet, a week's worth of snow stomped into the dirt and mud by the villagers. Dean frowned as he rounded the corner and Castiel's hut came into view. True to the woman's word, it was completely closed off. That was unlike Cas. The angel always had his windows open no matter what weather or climate. Having them otherwise struck the angel with an severe case of claustrophobia. The hunter kicked his boots into the stairs before knocking on Cas's door.

"Cas! Come on man, it's time to go!" he called out. When he was met with silence he knocked again, harder. He jiggled uselessly against the locked doorknob.

"Cas!" he called, louder. Again, nothing. Concern began to blossom in his chest. He banged on the door this time, his free hand digging into his pockets for the key he kept in case of emergencies. He was the only one in the village with a copy other than Cas himself and he guarded it zealously.

The place was a wreck. Furniture was thrown about, broken glass and papers littered the floor. It was dark inside, darker than he had ever seen the place to be. Dean heard choked sobs coming from the doorway of the bedroom.

"Cas?" Dean jolted, crossed the circular sitting room in a few strides and yanked the blanket aside that served as Castiel's bedroom door. He froze at what he saw.

Castiel stood naked with his back facing a full length mirror. He stared over his shoulder, his blue eyes wide and gazed as he stared at his wings.

Wait.

Cas had wings. Huge, black powerful looking wings that spread wide into the room, the tips pressed against the opposing walls. Dean's throat caught as he gazed at them. In the back of his mind he was reminded that Cas always had wings, but it was only just now that he could see them. Castiel paid him no attention as he reached over his shoulder and ran a hand over the delicate curve of his left wing. When a few small feathers dislodged themselves in between his fingers he let out a pained cry. He brought his hand back to his gaze and stared at the feathers that lay inside it. He trembled as began to quietly sob. Dean was taken back by the utter misery that seeped from the angel's very being.

"Cas?" he whispered. The man's eyes jerked up to his at the sound of his name and widened in surprise. The wings swept closed. Dean noticed a few more feathers flutter to the floor.

"Dean," he choked. Niether man spoke for the longest time before Cas added,"You can see them, can't you?" He didn't specify other than to flare his wings a little. The pain in Castiel's eyes was so utterly saw, so vulnerable and so desperate for him to say "no" that Dean considered lying to him. But after all they had been through, with Sam as the the devil's meatsuit and their allies dropping left and right, lying solved nothing. Besides, this was Cas.

Dean gave a stiff nod. Castiel looked away with a grimace to the hand that held his feathers. Dean hesitantly approached the man and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"What's going on, Cas?"

Castiel frowned and shook his head, then sighed.

"Do you remember what I told you in the Impala about two weeks after the apocalypse started?" he asked, his voice low. Dean thought back, scanning through his memories of the many drives he and the angel took after Sam...

He shook his head, chasing the thought from his mind. Unfortunately Cas took it as an answer and jerked away from him.

"About me falling, Dean?"he spat. Dean started, then realized what he did.

"Shit, sorry Cas. Yes, I remember you telling me. Why?" he asked, his hand rising, this time to grasp Cas's upper arm. The angel's eyes flinched towards the thumb that slid against his skin before returning the the green eyes full of concern.

"My grace has been steadily fading since then. This," his wings spread around them. " my wings are the last to go. The fact that you can see them proves it. This is the end for me, Dean." Cas said miserably.

"The way I am now..I've got maybe a week left. A week. Then I'll be human." As the last words left his lips his voice broke and his eyes welled with tears. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the sobs threatening to burst forth since before Dean even arrived.

"Woah Cas, hey. Hey," he soothed, pulling the guy into his arms for a tight hug. He felt a wetness on his shoulder as the angel trembled beneath his hands. Dean closed his eyes and lay his head against Cas's. He rubbed a hand up and down his spine, avoiding the fragile wings.

"It'll be alright Cas. We'll get through this. We always do."

\(o.o)/

Dean stayed with Cas for the rest of the evening, helping him clean his wrecked sitting room. Cas stayed sullen and quiet for most of the time, but after he allowed Dean to convince him into drinking with him he began to relax.

"Cheers." they clinked their fifth whiskey shot together and downed them. Dean grimaced and licked his lips, collecting the little bit of alcohol that managed to escape the glass. Castiel chuckled and gave his wings a feeble flap. Dean's eyes caught the moment. Castiel, noticing it, tilted his head with a small quirked smile.

"So," he flared the feathered appendages. "Now that you've seen them, what do you think?" he asked earnestly, with a touch of bitterness. Dean's eyes widened in slight surprise at the question before darting to the wings, surveying them. They looked battered, small bald patches peppered throughout them due to the feathers that continued to fall. On closer inspection Dean discovered that they were not black, but a dark stormy gray. The color was dull, lack luster, but the dead and dry appearance of the feathers suggested that they were not always so.

Even so, Dean could still sense that they were pure, powerful things. These weren't the wings of birds. These were the wings that carried Castiel, Angel of the Lord, friend of the Winchesters. These were the wings that had on countless occasions saved the lives of both him and his brother.

Dean gazed at the wings and the man with a look of love and adoration.

"They're beautiful." he breathed. Castiel gave a sad smile and folded them closed again.

"They didn't always look like this. You should have seen them before, they were...never mind. Thank you," he said. They settled into a heavy silence again, though the air seemed significantly lighter. After a few minutes Castiel spoke up again.

"Dean, if it's alright with you...I don't want anyone else to see me like this. My wings are very private, intimate parts of my being. They aren't meant to be seen by humans." The whole part about Dean seeing them was left unsaid. Dean was the exception to the rule. Dean would always be the exception, always be different when it came to Castiel.

Dean frowned.

"So what, you wanna hermit yourself up in here for a week?"

Castiel nodded.

"But we need you out there, Cas." his voice lowered.

"Please Dean. You must understand. I need this. It's hard enough that I have to watch them die without having to endure the probing eyes and fingers of the colony as well. Please."

Dean looked up at the man and met his gaze. The angel's eyes were wide, pleading, still so astonishing in their innocence despite everything they had gone through together. The hunter scowled disapprovingly but nodded.

"Alright Cas."

(o.o)/

Dean finally left Cas around one in the morning, truthfully claiming the need for sleep. When Castiel walked him to the door and pulled him into another quick hug, Dean realized that Cas was still nude.

Since when had they gotten so comfortable together that something like that slipped his radar?

"Get some rest, okay?" Dean ruffled Cas's hair in a vaguely brotherly manner. "We'll eat breakfast after I get caught up on tonight's meeting, alright?"

Cas gave a small smile and nodded.

"Alright."

"You gonna be alright by yourself tonight?" Again, like a big brother, and again Cas nodded. Dean eyed him for a moment before finally stepping on the porch.

"Kay. Door's open if you need anything."

"I'll remember that. Thank you Dean."