Hi everyone! Wow, can I just say how incredible you all are? So many awesome reviews and followers! Thank you all so much! Your reward: a long chapter. And, yes, I know there's a lot of exposition and not so much Cas, but I promise promise promise that the next chapter will be all fluffy boys, so hold on till then!^^
Dean had winced at the over-the-top name when he read it online, but he was relived to find out that the store itself was fairly innocuous. It was still brightly colored and had more pink than any store had a right to outside of Victoria's Secret, but from what he could see, the men's section wasn't that bad. He guided Cas inside (a little glad that the angel couldn't see the frou-frou get-up in the front windows) and they were met by a perky saleswoman.
"Hi, I'm Becky! Welcome to Angelic Angles. Is there anything I can help you find?" The woman, in her late twenties, was somewhat short with long blonde hair and a large smile. Dean shied back a little from her exuberant greeting, but mustered up a smile for her.
"Uh, yeah. My friend, Castiel, here needs some clothes that fit over his wings," Dean said, not really sure what he had to choose from.
Becky grinned, peeking over Dean's shoulder at the shy angel who hovered behind him. "Ok, well, what kind of style are you boys looking for?"
Dean shuffled nervously—he hated shopping for clothes and he was at a loss as to what Cas might like to wear. If Castiel was another guy, maybe Dean could help, but an angel? From what he knew they wore robes and played harps while sitting on clouds. "Something simple, I guess. We just need the basics to get us started. We, uh, we've only known each other a little while and he…can't see very well."
"Sure," Becky said comfortingly. It was clear that neither of the men were going to be forthcoming in what type of clothes they wanted, but judging by what they were already wearing, she made some informed decisions. "No problem. Why don't we get Castiel settled in a changing room and I'll bring in some selections for him to choose from?" Dean agreed and led the angel to the small dressing room at the back of the men's section. He helped Cas remove the jacket and patted him companionably on the shoulder.
"The colors don't really matter, so I guess just pick what's comfortable," he advised.
"How many am I allowed?" Castiel wanted to know.
Dean paused. "Just, I don't know, as many as you need. How about one for each day of the week? Don't worry about the price, ok? I actually made off pretty well at that poker game—present company included."
The angel simply nodded. Dean knew they would have to work on their communication later.
Becky returned with her arms full of an assortment of shirts for Castiel to choose from. "I got a bunch of over-the-wing shirts for you. I know that lots of angels prefer to keep their wings out, so we have plenty of styles suited for that. I picked mostly earth tones; nothing too flashy." She set the hangers on a hook next to the full-length mirror and turned to the angel. "Most of these you should be able to get on by yourself—that's what they're designed for."
"Do you need help, Cas?" Dean asked, though it was clear he would prefer to wait outside. When Castiel shook his head, Dean followed Becky out into the lobby area to give the angel his privacy.
"So," Becky hedged once they were out of earshot, "You guys haven't known each other very long?"
Dean wasn't very good at making conversation, but the girl had been nice so far, so he answered. "No. We just kind of got stuck together. He…was in pretty bad shape when I found him." Becky hadn't commented on Castiel's numerous injuries, but she had probably assumed they had come from other angels. They were warriors of Heaven, after all, and some preferred to keep their skills sharp by fighting one another for sport.
"Well, for a newly bonded pair, you seem to get along well together."
Dean didn't know what to say to that. Luckily, Becky was quite talkative and didn't notice his awkward pause.
"So, I guess you don't know much about angels, then?" she asked. Dean replied that he didn't and Becky leaned in closer, as though sharing a secret. "Well, I wasn't going to mention it, 'cause I know it's none of my business, but your angel's wings look really dry. When's the last time you oiled them?"
"Oiled?" Dean repeated, clearly clueless on the matter.
Becky sighed. "You have to work a special oil into them a couple times a week so they don't dry out. It keeps them clean and healthy. It's ok," she said kindly, "I didn't know about it either at first. Come over here." The saleswoman led Dean to a display of several sizes of pink-labeled bottles. "This is synthetic angel wing oil," she said, holding up one of the larger ones. "Don't let the fancy label fool you—this is good stuff. My angel, Balthazar, loves it."
"You have an angel?" Dean asked curiously. It seemed like this girl could be a good source of information.
"Yup," she confirmed happily.
"And, you're bonded?" He still wasn't really sure what the whole bonding thing entailed. He knew that he and Cas had completed the first stage when Cas burned his handprint into Dean's arm, but the second stage was much more complicated and permanent.
Becky grinned. "Uh-huh. We've been together for twelve years now. When I was 16, he saved me from a mugger. When I asked how I could repay him, he said could he come live with me and would I consider bonding with him? I was in a bad place in my life and he was like this knight in shining armor. I said yes, and I've never regretted it."
Dean smiled. It sounded like his and Castiel's relationship, only reversed. "So, are you two…together?" he asked bluntly. He wasn't sure how he felt about the second bond. From what he'd heard, it sounded rather…intimate.
The woman laughed. "No, I have a boyfriend. Balthazar is like…a big brother and best friend all rolled into one. And, between you and me, he's a bit of a player." She said it fondly, as she would for a family member, like she could see no wrong in her angel despite his shortcomings.
"But, you still oil his wings?" Dean wanted to know. That seemed like something a lover would do.
"Sure," Becky said readily. "He loves it, the big softie. Angel's wings are very sensitive, so it's like a massage. They used to do it for each other in Heaven, you know, since angels can't reach their own wings. It was a social thing, between close friends and family. And lovers too, of course. Like birds, angels do make their own wing oil, but it's usually just easier to buy it—it comes out of clothes and upholstery a lot easier!"
It sounded like she spoke from experience. Dean decided to get a couple of bottles because, as Becky had pointed out, Castiel's wings looked anything but healthy. The water from the shower last night had probably dried them out even more.
"These should get you started—just a few times a week—and, you can always get some online or in specialty stores," Becky was saying as she led Dean back to the front counter, "But, like I said, Balthazar likes this kind especially. It smells really good and some of the other styles have glitter and stuff—he likes to show off for the ladies," she added with a wink. Dean laughed; this Balthazar guy sounded like a real character.
Castiel spent another fifteen minutes trying on new shirts, plus a few pairs of pants that Becky recommended. ("They're great for flying and exercising in, plus they look great!") He emerged with a few shirts and pairs of jeans, but Dean surreptitiously added a couple more choices to the pile, knowing that Cas was too polite and shy to get more. This included a bright blue top that matched the blue of the angel's eyes. Cas might not appreciate it, but even Dean, who had little fashion sense, could tell it would look good on him. By the time they left, each of them had a full bag of merchandise.
Cas, at Dean's insistence, was wearing one of the outfits already. The shirt was shaped a bit like a scuba vest with two holes in the back that fit over his wings. Underneath each was a thin zipper that held the shirt on. It was mostly black, which matched his hair and had a few blue highlights over the shoulders and seams. Over it he wore a long-sleeved open shirt, this one closing with snaps in the back. The denims he wore were dark pre-washed blue and Dean couldn't help but notice that they were quite well-fitting, hugging the angel's subtle curves without being too tight. He knew Cas probably had no idea how good he looked in the clothes, but it gave him a warm sort of pride to know that he had provided so well for his angel. He wouldn't admit that the warmth was also perhaps caused by deeper, more hidden feelings.
They ate lunch at the mall food court (a slice of pizza and pie each from D'Bronx), then headed back to Lawrence. Dean stopped off at Kohl's to finish off Castiel's wardrobe with socks and undergarments, plus two pairs of shoes. They were both beat by the time they made it back to the apartment. Dean drew another bath for Cas, who had quietly admitted that he would like another, and went to see about ordering Chinese for dinner. He already had the phone in hand, ready to dial Chang's Delivery, when it rang. The caller ID came up with Bobby's number.
"Please tell me you found something," Dean said by way of greeting.
"Nice to hear from you, too," Bobby grumbled, but Dean could hear book pages shuffling on the other end. "Well, I scoured my collection first, then went on to the Internet—which, by the way, you are fully capable of doing."
"Bobby," Dean groaned.
The older man sighed. "Fine, do you want the old stuff or the new?"
Dean shrugged. "Whatever will help me learn how to help Cas. I guess the background first might help."
"Ok, then. Well, it says here—and, mind, this is all human speculation. It's not like angels ever wrote down any of their history—that while they are God's warriors and very powerful, they are trained to always be obedient and follow orders—either God's or their garrison leader. Lucifer being cast from Heaven for disobeying sent a pretty powerful message to the rest to keep in line and not question things.
"Bottom line is, Dean: they may be smarter and faster and, well, more holy than us, but they are naturally submissive to stronger personalities. That may explain how your angel got tied up with that Grade-A asshole. He saw someone who professed to be strong enough to take care of him, to help him navigate the new world he found himself in after the Fall, and let the man be in charge. Clearly, the dick took advantage of Castiel's trust."
Dean thought about it. "Ok, so that explains why Cas hooked up with him, and maybe why he didn't try to get away. Or, maybe he did try but he was too weak…Did the Fall really drain them of that much of their power, where they couldn't fight back against a human?" he wondered.
Bobby hrummed on the other side of the line. "Well, that may tie into what I was reading online, about the double bonding thing they do with humans."
"Yeah, what's that all about? It's not that I mind—except for the huge handprint. Actually, I don't really feel any different." Dean reached up to rub the scar, which hadn't hurt since just after Castiel created it. Frankly, he had expected something a bit more…magical to occur, but nothing out of the ordinary had happened after he brought the angel home.
"Well," Bobby said slowly, reading as he talked, "From what I can tell, the initial bond is mainly on the angel's side—that's why he didn't need your consent to create it. It's infused with a tiny part of his Grace that lets other angels know what you two have some kind of relationship. You should be more in tune to each other now."
"What's a 'Grace,' and what do you mean by 'in tune'?" Dean demanded. Bobby was practically speaking Greek to him. Apparently, he knew even less than he'd thought about angels. Good thing he had someone to do the research for him.
Bobby's annoyed sigh was loud and clear. "Boy, don't you read anything?" he grumbled. "An angel's Grace is the source of their power—it's what makes them an angel. It is what heals them when they're injured, helps them fly—all that angel-y stuff. The human equivalent would be a soul, but we don't use ours quite the same way. Now, as I was saying, it seems that once you two are first bonded, you are connected in small ways. Like, you can sense each other's moods, anticipate needs, things like that. Things that people who have known each other years can do naturally; the bond just helps it along faster."
"So far so good," Dean said. He supposed that could explain why he felt such a strong need to protect and provide for his angel, but the man suspected that he would have been that way even without the bond linking them together. "So, then, what were you saying about the Fall?"
"I was getting to that," the mechanic said testily. "From what I understand, the second stage of the bonding involves binding the angel's Grace the human's soul. The two energies are compatible insofar as they make a powerful link—like instant soul mates in every sense of the word. Making that second bond gives the angel a big power boost, almost to that of what they had in Heaven. It also gives the human stuff like near invincibility, immunity to viruses, stuff like that." Dean could hear Bobby clicking through web pages on his desktop. There was a long pause, then the man continued.
"If I was to make a guess, I'd say that the reason Castiel can't heal himself or fly or whatever else angels do it because his powers are too weak. In other words, his Grace in such bad condition. Castiel's Grace is corrupt because he bound himself to a corrupt man. That jerkwad sucked all the…the angel juice outta Cas to make himself stronger, and left Castiel weak as a newborn kitten. He needs his Grace to heal himself, but it had been sullied and drained."
The old man jumped when Dean spoke again.
"Dammit Bobby!" he cursed, slamming his fist down on the kitchen table. "What the hell was he thinking?!"
"What the hell was who thinking?" Bobby demanded. "What's got your panties in a twist?"
"Cas!" Dean shouted. "How could he do that?"
"Boy, quit shoutin' or I'm gonna come over there and tan yer hide," Bobby warned. "What are you on about?"
Dean took deep breaths around the anger constricting his chest. "Don't you see it? He's done the same thing again! I don't know why he bound himself to Mikey, but now he's done the same thing with me. My soul is just about as corrupt as that evil son of a bitch's. How's he ever supposed to get better if he's hitched to my crappy-ass soul?"
Bobby's voice was quiet when he said, "Son, listen,"
"No," Dean cut him off. "I'm not letting him do it again. Thanks for the intel, Bobby," he said, then hung up. Forgetting all about dinner, he marched off towards the bathroom—he had a bond to break and an angel to save.