Dean awoke strangely warm and content. Something soft was over him and heat was radiating next to him and he scooted closer to the source, sighing. It reminded Dean of when he was younger and his father would come put a heated blanket over Dean and Sam during cold winter nights.

Dean's eyes opened slowly, sunshine streaming weakly through the dirty blinds in the motel room. As Dean's mind began to clear more, he became more and more confused. He looked at the heat and realized it was the angel, lying beside him. Castiel's hair was a mess, dirty and matted, but his face was peaceful and lax. Dean furrowed his brows as he realized he was lying on the blankets. He glanced at what was over him and realized it was one of Castiel's huge wings, thrown over Dean.

His eyes widen as he tentatively reached a hand up and ran it through the wings, feeling how dirty they were. Castiel really needed to be groomed. And a shower couldn't hurt either.

Dean ran his hand over the joint in the wing, seeing it was healing much faster than he'd expected. He squeezed lightly, feeling the muscles underneath, and then Dean heard a loud gasp, followed by the wing being thrown off him and the angel jumping off the bed, away from him.

Dean lay there for a moment before sitting up and starring at the angel. Castiel was in the corner of the room, one wing around his body, and the injured one in his hands. He looked at Dean with mistrust. "What?" Dean asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. The angel seemed to shrink some and he glanced down at his wing. "I wasn't going to hurt you, I was looking at the wound." The angel didn't move or reply. "Why do you have such a hard time trusting? I mean, damnit, haven't I proved myself enough that I'm not trying to hurt you?"

Dean's anger flared and he glared at the angel in the room, waiting for a reply. "You worry me…with your fascination of my wings," the angel murmured quietly.

Dean blinked, his anger fading as he stood up, taking a step towards the angel, but Castiel simply shrunk lower to the ground. "Why? I'm not going to hurt them. It just bothers me sometimes that they're dirty. You really need them groomed."

The angel looked at Dean and seemed to be judging him, and Dean must've failed because the angel didn't reply but simply wrapped both wings around him.

Dean groaned, "Whatever. I'm hungry. Do whatever it is you do when I'm not around." And with that he grabbed his coat and keys and left.

When Dean came back, the motel room was completely empty. Dean had started to panic, thinking the angel had left after the fight in the morning and he'd dropped the to-go order on the table and walked more into the room, unable to believe the angel was just gone. "Castiel?" He called out, unsure. Dean heard a grunt from behind him and he turned, seeing no one. "Castiel?" He called out again, louder. That's when Dean heard the bang come from the bathroom, and realized the light was on and the door was closed.

Dean walked to the door and hesitantly opened it, seeing the angel sitting on the edge of the tub, one wing in his hands, the other on the floor, sopping wet. Dean could hear the irritated sounds coming the angel. "Castiel? What's wrong?" Dean asked, stepping more into the bathroom. Castiel froze before turning his head slightly to the side, "I can not clean my wings." Castiel's head falls and he looks ashen and embarrassed. "I know how it bothers you but I do not know how."

A pang of guilt hits Dean, "Aw, dude. I didn't mean that it bothered me like that; I just meant that you have really nice wings. They should be cared for correctly so they can look their best."

The angel was silent for a long time before mumbling, "Would you please show me how, Dean?"

Dean looked at the angel and could see the sadness in the set of the angel's wings and shoulders. He remembered how Castiel's brother used to groom his wings for him, but then he died. "Sure. Come into the living room." Dean motioned towards the other room and walked out, the angel following, holding a towel. Dean gestured towards the bed and the angel sat, facing the headboard. "You don't necessarily need water to clean wings. Your oil glands are really all you need. Dry your wet wing while I clean this one."

Dean ran a hand through the wing, feeling the dirt and grime and grimaced. He reached his hand further in, feeling for the gland at the base of the wing. Dean's hand finally brushed the gland and he squeezed it gently, feeling how big and underused it was. Castiel sighed loudly when Dean squeezed the gland, his hand covered in oil. He ran his hand over a few feathers, the dirt building up in clumps as Dean went along, until the clumps fall on the ground as Dean reaches the edge of the wing. Dean repeats the process over and over, Castiel sighing contentedly each time.

When Castiel is done drying the other wing, Dean begins to clean it as well, Castiel groaning when Dean squeezes the sensitive oil gland.

"Castiel?"

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean pauses, "Do you mind if I call you Cas? Castiel is a bit of a mouthful." The angel nods then says quietly, "That isn't what you wanted to ask, is it Dean?"

Dean furrows his eyebrows before murmuring, "I was just wondering what happened to Michael. Did a hunter kill him?"

Castiel's back grew stiff and he was silent for a few minutes. Dean regretted the question immediately and was going to apologize when Castiel spoke, "My brother fell in love with a human. The man told my brother that Michael could come live with him, and that he would take care of Michael. So he did."

Cas paused and Dean was tense, his hands frozen on a feather, but he quickly resumed, Castiel starting again after a moment. "Three months later Gabriel and I found Michael's body dumped by the tree Gabriel was killed at." Castiel stopped, sounding choked and he cleared his throat loudly before continuing, "His wings were completely cut out. Just two huge, gaping holes in his back…His left arm was cut off to the elbow, not treated at all, and after his waist there was nothing but unrecognizable flesh. It was not a good time, for my brother and me. Gabriel took care of me until I came back to reality." Castiel ended, his head hanging low and Dean slowly continued on his wings, his mind mulling over the information. Is that why Castiel was so mistrusting? He thought Dean would do that to him? Dean's stomach churned and he felt an actual sickness take hold of him. "That's fucking awful. I'm…so sorry." Dean couldn't imagine what it must feel like. What if that had happened to Sam? Dean's throat started to close and he could feel his face and eyes start to sting and he internally yelled at himself. Castiel was quiet the rest of the time Dean finished the grooming. When the last pieces of dirt were off, and Castiel's wings were black and shining, Dean said a proud, "Done. They look beautiful."

Castiel said nothing, and his wings were still hung low. Dean blinked and walked around the bed and saw Cas's face, the red eyes and tears streaming silently. "Oh, Cas." Dean's eyes began to sting again and he quickly grabbed the angel's shoulders and dragged Castiel to him, wrapping his arms around the angel. Castiel's head rested in the crook of Dean's neck and Cas let loose a quiet sob, his chest heaving against Dean's. Dean didn't say anything as Castiel began sobbing loudly, his body wracking with shivers as Dean held him.