Author's Note: This chapter is fairly upbeat, because I feel like in context of the story I've told, Dean and Cas have a much more established reason for Cas to send Dean back to the Wild West, no questions asked. This chapter also has the much feared/anticipated wing!kink, just because I love the idea of Castiel's wings. It's harder and harder for me to write, because I started this fic before watching season 6, and I had no idea how much I would dislike the arc of season 6. It's so incredibly depressing to watch Cas and Dean grow apart. I wanted to create reasons for Cas's self righteousness, justify why he would make some of the choices he made, and do some things that cast Dean in a more sympathetic light. I don't know how well I've succeeded- a lot of this is based on the idea that Dean is an incredibly repressed person, and his relationship with Sam has gotten so strained that he can't trust in him the way he used to, but with Cas, there's just that blind faith that we see in "The Man Who Would Be King" that Cas will always come through for him- the faith he used to have in Sam.

Chapter Twelve: Love Gets Slippery When It's Wet

Castiel was happy to send Sam and Dean back into the past in search of phoenix ashes. He knew how much it would mean to Dean to experience the Wild West. He wanted that happiness for Dean, wished he could always make Dean that excited, always see that joy in his eyes. Also, he wanted the Mother of All killed as badly as the boys- she would stop him from tapping the resources of Purgatory, if she could. Crowley felt differently, of course, but Cas's patience with the demon was growing thin. He planned to double-cross the snarky bastard as soon as he had the means to open the door to Purgatory.

He killed Rachel. His sister, his lieutenant, the voice of temperance and confidence in his warped reality. If he had had time to put on the amulet, summon the Armor, maybe he could have overpowered her without destroying her, maybe she could have been convinced.

He had had to kill her, though. He did it reflexively, without a thought, and it wasn't until he stood over her corpse that he felt sickening regret. But there wasn't time for that, not even time to mourn, because of course the Winchester's needed his help, just like always, and as wounded as he was, he had to go to them.

Dean had had a good day. He pushed the newly present doubts that he was too needy and petty concerning Cas away, and lost himself in the glow of victory and the thrill of having actually been in the Wild West. He downed another shot of whiskey, and turned to the still-recuperating angel that was brooding on the couch. He had put in Blazing Saddles, excited to watch it with Cas and find another slice of peace in the middle of their latest Apocalypse, but the angel was in a serious funk. He was not even amused when Dean placed his cowboy hat atop his head, and wiggled his hips suggestively.

"Shower?" Dean winked. "I reckon I'll let you wrestle my trouser snake. Maybe show you my ass-less chaps."

"I do not require cleaning." Castiel said gloomily. "I am waiting until I am healed enough to return to Heaven."

"How bad is it?" Dean moved to sit beside the angel currently known as Grumpy McMopington. "Can I help?"

"No, but thank you. Touching Bobby's soul healed most of the damage. I am waiting for my full powers to return, in case of ambush when I return."

"Bobby said you had to touch it gingerly or he might explode," Dean snickered.

"Yes."

"I bet you touched it gingerly."

"You're making a penis joke."

"Yes, yes I am," Dean grinned.

Cas was silent, continuing to brood.

"What happened, Cas?" Dean slid his hand under Cas's trench coat and pulled it off. The angel didn't resist, but he wasn't exactly helpful either. Dean put his arm around Cas's shoulders, but the angel didn't relax against him, just continued to sit there, immobile.

"I was betrayed. By someone I- by Rachel. I… I was injured. She is dead."

"Cas, I'm sorry, man." Dean hadn't really liked her, but clearly Cas was deeply affected by her betrayal. Suddenly, it hit Dean how ungrateful and callous he'd been in light of the shit Cas had been going through. "Really sorry. I… I guess I didn't thank you for sending us back. It really took a lot out of you, and I shoulda thanked you before, should asked if you were okay. So, uh, thanks. I'm sorry I was an ass. I'm glad you're okay."

They sat a while in silence, and Cas eventually sighed, and laid his head against Dean's shoulder.

"This… These last few years have been stressful." Cas finally said, and Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah. Stressful's a word you could use, you know, if you were really underrating the situation."

Cas smiled a little at that, too.

"Hey, come on, baby. Come upstairs with me. I have an idea." Cas allowed Dean to pull him up and led him upstairs. Dean noticed that Cas stopped to grab his trench coat, and carried it carefully with them into the bathroom. He wasn't about to question the angel's sudden attachment to the garment. "Have you ever taken a shower?"

"I do not require cleaning, I told you that."

"Cleaning you outside is not the point. It feels good. It's fun to shower with someone hot, wet and naked." Dean looped his arm's around Cas's waist, and laid a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. Cas blinked. "We need to get your mind off of things. Just chill out with me, here, tonight, okay? Go back to your war in the morning, but just try and forget for now."

"It is impossible to forget." Cas muttered pessimistically, but at the earnestness in Dean's worried eyes, he wavered. "All right. We can shower."

Dean smiled. He turned on the hot water, and then started to loosen Cas's tie. He pulled the knot off, and let it drop to the floor. Pulling the collar away from Cas's neck, he laid a light kiss on his clavicle. Next came a sweet row of kisses following each shirt button. Then, kisses on each magnificent hipbone after the belt and pants were off. After he completely undressed the angel, he shed his own garments quickly, and was pleased to see the gloom in Cas's eyes replaced by arousal and curiosity. He kissed Cas again, and let his hand brush against Cas's semi-erect cock. He took Cas's hand and led him into the steaming shower. Cas flinched a little at the heat, but as his slick body slid against Dean's in the tiny stall, he became completely aroused, and Dean gasped as he felt the angel's hardness pressing against his own.

"See? Hot water, hot guy… What's not to like?" He grabbed the soap and lathered up his hands. He ran his slick hands down Cas's chest, pausing to cheekily tweak one nipple, which earned him a sharp intake of breath and a smile from Cas. Creating more lather, he slid his hand down and around Castiel's shaft, and stroked one hand up and down and used the other to delicately massage his balls. Cas leaned into Dean, burying his face in the wet neck, and running his hands along Dean's torso. Dean quickened his pace, and suddenly Cas kissed him hard on the mouth, claiming Dean's lips with his teeth, pressing him back roughly against the wall of the shower. Without the space between their bodies, Dean had to move his hand but with the water and soap, he felt Castiel's cock slide against his own, and let out a moan of his own. Cas thrust his tongue into Dean's mouth, capturing his tongue and at the same time, rocking his pelvis into Dean's. The water fell on their intertwined bodies, prickling their skin, droplets running down their chests as they moved apart, and disappearing when they came back together. After a few minutes of this, Dean was shaking and almost overwhelmed by Cas's need. Cas had never been this hungry, this desperate, not even the night he lost faith in his Father. This was darker, more controlling than the angel had ever been. Dean was surprised to find that he liked it, loved it, the intensity of Cas's desire for him, the way Cas lifted him up slightly, and slide one hand around to cup Dean's ass, pulling him closer, his fingers lightly brushing against Dean's opening, and then it was too much, and he came, Cas moment later. Dean was overcome with the desire to cry or laugh or something other than gasp for breath. As Cas gently set him down, his knees felt weak, and if it wasn't for the wall, he thought maybe he would have fallen.

"Woah. Wow. Okay. You… That…"

"I know." Cas looked at him, the blue eyes almost black with passion. They stood in the water, panting, and slowly regaining their composure. Then Cas bent over to pick up the soap, and Dean cracked up. Cas raised a questioning eyebrow, and Dean shook his head. No point explaining prison sex to an Angel of the Lord. Cas let it go, and lathered the soap between his hands. He rubbed it against his own stomach and then Dean's.

"Now, I require cleaning," he smiled at Dean.

"Turn around; I'll wash your back." Dean smiled in return, and soaped up his own hands. Cas obliged, and he rubbed them across the thin shoulders, and the lightly across the feathered wing-scars. As he brushed over them, Cas leaned back into his caress and gasped quietly. This aroused Dean's curiosity.

"Can I ask you something about angels? I've been wondering about it since you faced off with Raphael." He let one hand slide lower, massaging the soap into the small of Cas's back.

"Anything." Cas whined a little as Dean let his other hand trace the wing marks, leaning into the hand like a happy cat.

"Your wings. Well, all angels' wings. Do you have them? I mean, Raphael had those lightening wings, and Zack left wing marks on the floor when I killed him. Are yours made out of shadow? Are all angels' wings different? Where are they most of the time?" He slid his other back up, and was interested to note that as he traced a finger along the scars again, Cas reacted by arching against him again, and whimpering.

"That's- ooooh- several questions."

"Pfft. Answer them anyways." He let his hands drop.

Cas turned around. "I will wash your back, if you'd like."

Dean turned around, "I'd like, but you're avoiding the question. Wings. Tell me. Be glad I'm asking that and not the hard questions."

Castiel sighed. "I have wings. They are not made of shadow. What you saw was literally their shadow. We can manifest them to various degrees as we wish. Usually, we keep them intangible and invisible when inhabiting our vessels, as they are merely shadows themselves, of our true forms, and tend to attract attention. As to types, Archangels… they have different wings, depending on the angel. Some types of angels do not have wings. Thrones, for example, are wheels within wheels, covered in eyes. Some angels, like Zachariah, have six wings. He was a Seraph. The Cherubim, like the cupid we encountered, have four wings. They are the lowest in ranking."

"I can see why." Dean shuddered at the memory of the cupid's embrace.

"Indeed. "

"How about halos, do you have a halo?" Dean turned around again, and once again looped his arms around Cas's waist. The water was beginning to cool, so he turned it off, and led the angel out of the shower.

"The Dominions and the Principalities do, of a sort. Most of us do not."

"What was Anna? And Uriel? What's Balthazar?" Dean picked up a towel, handed it to Cas, then picked up another to show the Angel the intended use.

"Balthazar was a foot solider, now he's a Power," Cas mimicked his actions, and said, "Haniel was the Archangel of love and harmony. Of human sexuality."

"Oh, that makes sense. That's fitting." Dean was pleased by that.

"She was a joy. Always pleasant to be around, spirited. I served under her for a very long time, and she was…" Cas looked sad again, for a moment, then thoughtful. "Although, you realize, in our true forms, we are genderless. All male or female pronouns are simply a result of which human was writing the description of us at that particular time."

"So I can feel better, cuz you're not really a dude?"

"Yes. Haniel, though… I regret her passing. I will never…" Cas looked at himself in the mirror for a minute, silent, then turned away, copying Dean's towel-around the waist. He picked up his trench coat and assorted clothing, and held them, looking at the coat contemplatively. Then, "Uriel was an Archangel. A Seraph, actually- all Seraphs are Archangels, but not all Archangels are Seraphs. He was one of the four who have seen God. He checked the doors of the Jews for lamb's blood, and spoke to Noah about the flood. But at some point, after God became less wrathful and the New Order came about, Uriel had some sort of… disagreement… with God. I do not know what the exact nature of their conflict was, but ultimately, Uriel repented and was demoted to cherub, rather than being forced to fall. When you encountered him, he was climbing back up in the ranks. I now suspect that he was in league with Lucifer all along, and merely played the role of the angel of repentance." Castiel looked like he was heading towards gloom again, so Dean tried to steer the conversation back towards Cas.

"Huh. What about you? You said you're a Power? Before, you said you were a warrior of God that governed the distribution of power between humans." Dean led Cas next into his makeshift bedroom, and they crawled into bed together, still naked.

Cas allowed Dean to wrap his arms around Cas's shoulders, and once again rested his head against Dean's shoulder. "Yes. A warrior, created to be completely devout to God." His lips twisted in a slightly bitter smile. "We were created almost solely to protect the world from demons. To lead humans to the true path to God. But really, Dean, it is all so much more complex than I can explain to you. Angels are demoted or promoted, changed at the whims of God or since his departure, changed by the Seraphim. There are books, but they're just words, they aren't entirely accurate, just humans interpretations of things they thought they understood .I suppose the closest you could get, if you wanted to research it, would be the Book of Enoch, and possibly De Coelesti Hierarchia."

"Woah, woah, hold up there, sparky. Let's not start throwing the r-word around. Why read a book, when I have my own angel to teach me all about it?" Dean smiled.

Castiel frowned again, slightly. "I am yours, Dean, but I am not your angel. What I give to you, that is what is mine to give. But do not assume I am a pet angel, at your beck and call."

"When we're alone like this, you are at my beck and call." Dean smirked playfully, disliking the tone of reproach and authority in Cas's voice. He nipped lightly at Cas's neck. Cas closed his eyes, sighing. Dean kissed where he had bitten, and then asked, "Can I see them? Please?"

"My wings?"

"Please?" Dean opened his eyes as wide as they'd go, making his most pleading expression. Cas laughed, as Dean hoped he would, and acquiesced.

"We'll have to go outside. There isn't room in here."

They pulled on pants, and snuck down the stairs, being as quiet as possible. They stood in the junkyard, a few feet apart, and their eyes met. Cas looked nervous, more nervous than Dean had ever seen.

"Hey, if it's dangerous or uncomfortable for you, you don't-"

"No, it's not either. We are hidden from angels here, at the moment, and it is actually more comfortable to display my wings than conceal them, it's just… I have never shown a human my wings."

"Well, you've done a lot of nevers with me, Cas. A lot of firsts. " Dean reached over, and ran his hand along Cas's cheek. "We've been through Hell together, literally. You don't have to be nervous about me, ever. I think we've gotten to a pretty honest, trusting place in our relationship."

"Do you consider it that? A relationship?" Cas's expression was now unreadable. Dean considered his answer carefully. He thought about the vast expanse of what they had been to each other, the emotions the angel provoked in him, the exact nature of what they were to each other.

"Like I said before. Brothers in arms. Honorary Winchester. Cas… you know what our lives are like. Either one of us could die at any moment. But no matter what happens to us, happened to us… No one in my life has ever done for me what you've done for me. Saved my life. Been there for me without question. Forgiven my sins. Loved me… Don't get me wrong, I love Lisa and Ben, you know I do, but they could never survive the life I live. But you gave me up to them, anyway, because you thought I could be happier with them than you. If I was with them, they would die. You hold your own. You fit into my life and you… We…" Dean struggled to say the words I think we're soulmates, I want to spend the rest of my short, brutal life with you, I more than love you, I need you, I worship you, I couldn't go on without you… then resorted to the practically trademarked humor-in-self-defense, "It doesn't hurt that you're the best head I've ever gotten. Heavenly, actually."

Castiel cocked his head to the side, considering Dean's impromptu speech. Did I say what he wanted to hear? Dean wondered, Did I say what I should have said? No. Stop being chicken shit. Man up. Tell him before it's too late.

But he couldn't. Instead, he went with the safe, "I love you, Cas," and kissed the angel.

"As I love you." Cas inclined his head, and stepped back. There was a shimmering in the air surrounding him, and then, to Dean's amazement, his wings appeared. They weren't white- Dean had been expecting either white or black, but they were blue. They were long and pointed, like a falcon, the flight feathers a deep, dark midnight blue black, lightening to a royal blue as they bled into the contour feathers. Dean gasped in awe. He was unable to move or speak for several minutes, gazing at the beautiful angel in front of him. Cas stood in the moonlight, wings spread, but this was entirely different than their first encounter. Instead of righteous and terrifying, he looked ancient and innocent at the same time, primeval. Finally, it was Cas who broke the spell. He folded his wings against his back and Dean moved forward instantly.

"Don't- don't put them away. Can… Could I touch them?"

Cas nodded. Dean moved behind Cas, and the angel spread his wings once again. Dean placed a hesitant hand out, and brushed one of the largest flight feathers. It was soft but firm and Dean felt a slight tingle go up his arm as he stroked it. Emboldened by its tangibility, he ran his hand along the top of the wing, feeling the bone underneath, covered in the royal blue contour feathers. Castiel sucked in his breath sharply, as he had in the shower. Dean moved his hand to the spot where the wings emerged from Castiel's back, and saw that under the contour feathers, there was a light layer of downy feathers, the same shade as Cas's eyes when he was happy. He traced a line down the impossibly soft base, and Cas let out a moan.

"Is that… Do you like that?" Dean asked.

"Yes." The angel said emphatically. "I didn't know it would feel like that. No one's ever touched my wings."

"Never? Not even other angels?"

"Never. We are not physically affectionate the way humans are, and our forms are too diverse, in any case. " Cas shrugged, the wings shifting under Dean's fingers.

"How are you affectionate, then? How do you 'cloud seed'?"

"Huh. We don't 'cloud seed', we exchange intense ocular expressions."

"You have eye sex." Dean thought back to the way Cas's gaze cut through him so many times.

"That is the simplest way to describe it, yes."

"That kinda casts a new light on the way you look at me."

"As you said, you are the first to do many things with me." Cas shifted, blushed a little. Dean found it enchanting. How could this amazing creature be embarrassed by anything? By him? He stroked his hand through the downy feathers, and Cas shuddered, and pushed back against Dean's hand. Dean moved closer, stroking the base of his wings with one hand, kissing between them, being extremely gentle, and with his other hand, he reached around the angel's hip and wrapped his fist around Cas's very erect cock.

"Dean, oh, Dean, oh fuck, oh yes…." Cas moaned, managing to somehow strain both forward into Dean's hand and backwards against his mouth. He fell to his knees, Dean moving along with him, still caressing both the wings and the cock. Castiel fluttered his wings, extending and folding them as he lost control with more abandon than Dean had ever seen, even more so than earlier in the shower.

"Don't get lost yet, baby," Dean whispered, slowing the pace of his hand and lightening his caresses. Castiel was practically sobbing, straining in too many directions at once. Dean moved his hand from the throbbing member to Castiel's sensitive opening, finding the passage ready for him. Without further hesitation, he slipped inside, and placed both hands around the base of Castiel's wings, massaging them. Cas arched back against him, letting out animalistic cries, and flapped his wings. Dean felt the muscles around his own cock contract for what seemed like forever, and then it was too much for him, and they were lost together. Castiel seemed unable to control his wings, he actually lifted them both up a few feet off the ground as they came, panting. Then, they collapsed onto the ground, barely able to move for several very long minutes. Finally, Cas twitched, and folded his wings against his body. Dean staggered to his feet, and helped the angel up.

"You're incredible." Dean smiled down at him, "You're amazing. I…" He didn't have words for what Cas was. He understood, finally, how miraculous it was that Cas loved him. Cas buried his head in the crook of Dean's neck, eyes wet, body covered in sweat and dirt.

"So are you," he whispered into Dean's neck. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

Castiel finally popped himself and Dean upstairs and clean. He was pleased to note that he was fully recovered, much faster than he had thought he would, but after the experience he had just shared with Dean, he couldn't bring himself to go. Every fiber of his being hummed with pleasure, and it would have been a moment of perfect happiness, except for the little voice inside of him that screamed to come clean with Dean, that nasty little conscience that thought he was doing the wrong thing in working with Crowley and lying to Dean. He pushed those doubt away, silenced the voice.

"How do you do this, Dean? Find happiness in the world when it's burning down around us?"

"I learned that you have to, or you go insane." Dean was half asleep, happily playing the role of big spoon, face buried between Cas's shoulder blades, hand absently tracing Cas's hip. "You brought me that, the peace, by being there when I was at my most desperate and worst. I just wish I had had this mindset all along. I think it's really all because of you. I think sometimes we're soul mates. You saved me so many times…." Dean was mumbling, but Cas could make out every single quiet, drowsy word, "I love you so much…I'd spend the rest of my life by your side in a moment. Mmm, love." Dean sighed in contentment, and let out a snore. Cas realized his human had fallen asleep. Cas closed his eyes, and tried to freeze the perfection of this moment in his mind forever.

When Dean woke up, Cas was gone. For some reason, this made Dean extremely irate. He wasn't sure exactly why it made him so grumpy that the angel had left- after all, this was status quo in their relationship, but he had felt like things had changed between them last night. He tried to raise Cas on prayer-radio, but there was no answer.

Of course he's gone. He's a fucking angel. Feelings will never matter to him, no matter how much he feels responsible for me and Sam, he's never really gonna love me. Dean blinked back the unexpected tears that burned in his eyes suddenly, started his day with his breakfast of champions. He slammed several shots of whiskey, and tried to move on with his life.

Whatever, he thought bitterly, I guess it didn't mean as much to him as I thought it did. Fucking whatever.