A/N- Throughout this story, I use several forms of communication. When there is spoken conversation, it's in quotes like normal. When something is written down, typed on a computer, or texted, it is written in italics like this. When angels are speaking to each other telepathically, 'it will be written like this with one apostrophe.' When sign language is being used, 'it will be in italics between a single apostrophe like this.' As you are reading, this will probably become a lot more clear.
Stay With Me
Dean doesn't remember how the fight started, or even what it was about, but before he knew it, his dad was yelling and so was he. Now he was walking down the street with no real destination in mind. The cold January air bit at his skin more than he had expected. In his rush to leave, he hadn't grabbed his coat. He pulled his thin jacket a little tighter and continued his walk toward the city.
It was a little too late for him to be wandering around the streets and feel completely safe. He usually didn't run into trouble but he began to feel uneasy as time passed. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking but it had to be long enough to worry his dad and he considered turning around. His dad was the sheriff and knew better than anyone what could happen out at night in the city.
Dean was just about to turn to cross the street when he heard something behind him. The sound of a group cheering and shouting caught his curiosity. He should've just ignored them and left, but he couldn't. He slowly moved down the sidewalk and saw a group of teenage boys huddled around something in front of the alley.
As he got closer, he could see what had their attention and Dean felt anger flare inside his chest. An angel was on the wet ground. His right wing was pinned under the foot of the small gang's leader as he egged on the others. The angel used his other wing to try and cover his body as the boys kicked and hit him. By the tattered clothes and thin body, Dean knew the angel lived on the street, something common among angels that ran away or were thrown out by their owners.
When the leader caught sight of Dean, he smiled and called out to him. "You want in on this?" He pressed his heel down on the angel's wing. Dean heard a pop and saw the angel jump and open his mouth in a silent scream.
Dean pushed his way through the teens and stepped up in front of the angel. He saw the angel shaking in pain and fear. The lack of noise was most likely because his vocal cords had been cut or removed, a common angel procedure.
The leader laughed. "You gonna do something or just stare?"
The angel looked up at him with wide terrified eyes. Blood covered half of his face and a bruise was already forming around one eye. Dean looked at the boy.
"Get off his wing."
He furrowed his brows like he had misheard. "What?"
Dean stepped closer to him and growled out, "Get off his wing!"
He glared at Dean and looked like he might challenge him, but he lifted his foot and squared up with Dean. The wing twitched as the angel tried to pull it back but couldn't. "He yours?"
"No."
"Then what's the big deal?" He laughed and moved closer to the angel. The angel tried to crawl away but the boy grabbed his shirt and pulled him up to stand. "Look at him. He's just a homeless angel. No one cares about him."
"So he should be beat to a pulp? He deserves this?" He pointed to the angel as he sagged in the boy's grip.
"It's fun."
Dean glared at the other boy and wanted nothing more than to beat the hell out of him but he held back. "Let him go and leave."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Leave, now." He looked around at the small group. Most of them didn't look too sure about what was going on anymore. Some of them probably just wanted to earn a few 'cool' points by hanging out with this jerk.
"Or what?"
The angel looked at Dean again and he saw curiosity behind his eyes. Dean took a deep breath. "Or I can make a call to my dad. You might have heard of him: Sheriff John Winchester."
A few of the teens behind him inhaled sharply and began stepping away. His dad had gotten a reputation around town of being a very strict sheriff and a general hardass. The leader seemed skeptical.
"You all have very distinct faces. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to give a good description and have you all charged with angel cruelty." Dean kept his glare on the leader, who seemed to be giving in. When Dean reached into his pocket, presumably for his phone, he let go of the angel.
"Fine. Have your angel." He walked back to his group. "Let's go." The others followed as he moved down the sidewalk.
Dean sighed in relief as they disappeared from sight. He had forgotten to grab his phone on the way out, so he's glad his bluff wasn't called. He turned back to the angel just as he collapsed to the ground again.
"Hey," Dean crouched and reached out to the angel.
He pulled back and moved away from Dean quickly. Dean put his hands up in surrender.
"I'm sorry." He stepped back a few steps and moved to his knees. "My name is Dean. I'm not gonna hurt you. Do you have anyone, a friend or parent?" The angel looked about his age so it seemed like a legitimate question. He shook his head. "An owner?" The angel's eyes looked away quickly and he shook his head again.
Dean didn't know what to do. He wanted to help but he wasn't sure how. He didn't have a phone or car and walking the angel all the way back to his house would probably be worse for him and if he left to get his car, he was afraid the angel would run.
He pushed up to stand and felt something in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a candy bar he had stashed for school snacking. Without a second thought, he held the bar out to the angel. The angel eyed it suspiciously.
"It's food. You have to be starving." He shook the candy slightly and the angel reached out slowly and took it. The wrapping crinkled as Dean thought of what to do. The angel hospital was as far away as his house and the angel clearly had no money to pay for it.
One name did come to mind then: Missouri. She lived close and ran a small shop out of her house. His parents had always said she was psychic and that she knew about a lot of things, with a soft spot for angels. He had been to the shop a couple times and could probably get there easy enough.
He turned to the angel as he finished the candy bar. "I know someone who could help you. It's a bit of a walk."
The angel eyed Dean as he dropped the candy wrapper. He seemed to be looking for some kind of trick. Despite his injuries, the angel seemed lucid enough. He looked away in thought.
"Her name is Missouri. She likes angels and she could help you. Will you let me help you?"
The angel considered the question. Dean could still see the fear in him and the angel would be justified if he just ran from him. He wiped some of the blood from his mouth and nodded slowly.
Relief spread through Dean and he pushed up to his feet. "Can you walk well enough?" He held a hand out to the angel. He nodded and took Dean's hand. "Good."
Dean helped the angel stand and started down the sidewalk. The angel couldn't keep up a fast pace and Dean had to stop frequently to let the angel rest. His broken wing was hanging at a strange angle behind his back, while the other one wrapped around his side. He kept his head down as they walked and Dean could feel the angel's hand shaking.
After walking twenty minutes, they were about a block away from Missouri's house. Dean was about to tell the angel when his arm was tugged and the angel sat down on the ground. His whole body was shaking in exhaustion and pain and he shook his head.
"Hey, come on," Dean crouched next to him, "it's just around the corner. I know you're hurting and tired, but you can make it. I'm sure she'll give you food and you can sit the whole time. Come on." Dean stood and held out his hand again.
The angel shook his head and tried to move away from Dean. "Please," Dean moved to the angel's level again and extended his hand out, "come with me. You need help. You'll die out here alone." His breath was coming out in huge clouds as the night air grew colder. He just realized how cold he really was. He couldn't imagine how numb the angel had to feel. "Please?"
He furrowed his brows and searched Dean's eyes. He seemed utterly confused by Dean's insistence on helping him. The angel closed his eyes and dropped his head. Dean moved forward slightly and put a hand on his arm. He flinched but didn't move away.
Dean wasn't sure the angel would be able to walk the whole way but he couldn't leave him. When the angel didn't pull away, Dean put his left arm under his arms and moved to stand them both up. The other boy was so thin, it was easy enough to take most of his weight and walk them down the street.
As the house got closer, the angel's legs gave out. Dean picked him up easily and carried him to Missouri's door. He was beginning to contemplate how he would knock when the door opened.
"Dean Winchester, do you know how late it is?" Missouri had a hand on her hip and she held the door open.
"I hadn't even knocked yet."
Missouri made a sour face before stepping aside. "Well, get in here before you both freeze to death."
Dean hurried inside and sighed as the heater's warmth hit him. He carried the angel over to the table, where Missouri already had first aid supplies out and ready, and set the angel on one of the chairs. He stepped away from the angel and looked around at the supplies with a frown.
"How did you know…?"
"You poor thing, on the edge of death and attacked, dear." Missouri talked over Dean and brushed off his questions as she moved around the table and looked the angel over. She shook her head and bit her lip. "Goodness, who could do this to you?"
"Can you help him?" Dean rubbed his hands together to warm them.
"Of course I can." She sat next to the angel and opened a couple bottles on the table. "Why don't you go make this poor angel something to eat. I'm afraid he'll keel over if you don't."
Dean opened his mouth to respond when Missouri cut him off again. "Make yourself something too if you want. I might need your help too." Instead of asking how she knew they were coming and what she would need, Dean sighed and went to the kitchen.
"Oh, dear." Missouri slid the bowl of warm water she had on the table closer and started washing off the blood from his face and chest.
The angel was scared but was too tired to pull away. He closed his eyes and tried not to shake. "Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about in this house. No one will hurt you here."
He huffed out a short breath. "I'm not lying. I'm so sorry this happened to you." Dean came back with a sandwich for the angel and set it on the table in front of him. "Who could hurt such a beautiful face?" Missouri carefully held the angel's chin as she wiped blood from his swollen cheek.
The angel closed his eyes again and shook his head. Missouri turned his face to hers. "Don't ever let anyone make you think that. You are beautiful." The angel furrowed his brows. "Of course I can. Others could too if they learned to listen." She looked at a confused Dean.
"Am I missing something?" It looked like they were having a conversation but Dean was missing half of it. "He can't speak, right?"
Missouri shook her head. "Doesn't mean he has nothing to say, Dean." She looked at the angel. "He's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's a good kid." The angel smiled.
"Hey!" Dean crossed his arms and tried to think why he should stay.
Missouri laughed and continued her work. "Relax, Dean. You called your dad yet?"
"No, I'll wait a little." He wanted to make sure the angel was okay first. "So, you can hear what he's thinking, is that it?"
"Yes." She stood and took a look at the angel's broken wing. "Angels mainly communicate telepathically." She brushed his wing, making him flinch. "Sorry."
"Okay." Dean moved over to sit at the table. "What's his name?"
Missouri paused and the angel looked at Dean. "Castiel." She smiled and moved back to her seat. The angel continued to stare at Dean.
The piercing look he was getting made Dean nervous. He pushed himself up to stand and smiled at Missouri. "Well, I think I will call my dad now. Thanks for the help and let me know if I can do anything for you." Dean took a couple steps when Missouri spoke.
"What exactly are you planning to do with Castiel?" She raised a brow at him.
"I thought…you know how to treat him and I thought you…"
"Boy, I run a shop out of this house. I can't have an angel to worry about while I got customers in here." She looked at the angel and put a hand on his arm. He looked at her and seemed to deflate.
"We can't just leave him." Dean knew he would die soon on the streets.
"I didn't suggest you should." She looked at him like the solution should be obvious.
Dean opened his mouth and held out his hands. "I can't…my dad has made it clear that we won't have an angel. He doesn't like how that could look, given most owners' reputations." Most were known to be abusive and cruel to their angels and used them for status symbols. The Winchesters didn't want that reputation.
"Maybe you should stop worrying about what other people think of you."
"My dad is the sheriff."
"You don't want to help him then? Did your dad teach you to run from responsibilities?" Missouri stood and put her hands on her hips, setting a glare on him.
"I want to help him, I do. I just don't think my dad will let me take him home. Castiel may not even want me to take care of him." He looked at the angel. "Do you want to come home with me, Castiel?"
Castiel stared at Dean with wide eyes and seemed unable to blink. Missouri looked at him and smiled. She turned to Dean. "He's really trying to figure you out, Dean."
Dean shifted uncomfortably. "If he doesn't want to, that's fine. I can't force him to do anything. I wouldn't."
Castiel looked even more confused. Missouri laughed and shook her head. "He's not used to anyone giving him a choice, or caring enough to offer one." She checked his wing again. "Come help me." She motioned to Dean.
Dean walked around the angel and finally got a close look at his wings. They were large and dark in color, although some of that was dirt and dried blood. They were a dark grey on bottom while some of the smaller feathers on top were lighter, almost white. The broken one stuck out at an unnatural angle, making Dean wince in sympathy.
"I need you to hold his wing straight so I can bind it so it can heal." She put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "This is gonna hurt, honey. I'm sorry."
Castiel nodded and tensed himself in preparation. Missouri looked at Dean and motioned for him to take the wing. Dean wrapped his hands around the thick bone at the top of the angel's wing and pulled it out to be fully extended. The wingspan was much larger than Dean expected and he marveled at the beautiful wing briefly before Castiel's head fell back and his mouth was open in a pained cry.
"Just hold it still, Dean. I need to tie it up." She rubbed Castiel's arm in sympathy before unrolling the gauze. "Hold this along the bone." She handed him a wooden plank about the size of the bone.
Dean used one hand to hold the wing up as he took the wood and lined it up along the break that almost went through the entire bone. Missouri worked quickly to wrap the wing, careful to mind the feathers. The angel had lost quite a few before Dean showed up.
Castiel had his fingers curled around the edge of the table in a tight grip as they worked. He wanted to pull away and stop the pain, but he couldn't. He knew they were helping him and it would only get better.
When she had the wing wrapped, Dean slowly dropped his hands and let the injured wing hang loose. He could pull the wing in part of the way, but not all the way. When Missouri nodded to him, Dean walked around the table and sat down across from Castiel. He watched as the angel took deep breaths through his nose and kept his eyes shut.
"Isn't there something you can give him for the pain?" Dean couldn't imagine how painful a broken wing had to be.
"I'm getting to it." She smiled at Dean and reached over Castiel to grab a bottle off the table. She opened it and poured some of it on the bandage. Castiel twitched and grimaced. She walked around to sit beside him as the liquid soaked through to his wound. "You get around to calling your dad yet?"
Dean looked at Missouri and shook his head. "I probably should."
"He's worried about you, I'm sure." She raised a brow at him.
"Yeah." Dean stood and went to the phone Missouri had in the kitchen to call his father.
Missouri continued to clean the blood from Castiel and checked the wounds on his chest and stomach. It looked like a couple of his ribs were broken or at least bruised badly. She touched his shoulder gently as Dean entered from the kitchen.
"My dad's on his way." His voice was strained. His dad had obviously not been happy with him, but was happy to know that he was safe. He hadn't said anything about the angel.
Missouri nodded and stood. "You should eat." She pointed to the sandwich on the table. Castiel looked at her. "Don't lie to me. I know how hungry you are." She pointed again and Castiel averted his eyes and picked up the food slowly. She nodded in approval and looked at Dean. "I'll be right back."
Dean just nodded and sat back down at the table. He watched as Castiel took a careful bite like he thought the sandwich would bite back. He smiled and put his hands on the table. "So, we never really settled the matter earlier," Castiel looked at him with wide eyes, "but, do you want to come back with me?" Castiel swallowed his food and seemed worried. "If you don't want to, I'll pack you with some food and take you back to where I found you. It's up to you."
Castiel stared at Dean with an unreadable expression. He considered the offer and looked back down to his food. He wasn't sure what he would really want to do. Dean's father might change his mind.
"I'll need to defend whatever choice you make to my dad when he gets here. Just let me know. Do you want to come home with me?" Dean looked Castiel in the eye, not sure which option he wanted more. He wanted to make sure he was okay, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to be responsible for him for the next few years.
Castiel nodded slowly. He wanted to go with Dean. He felt like he would be safe with him and that the boy genuinely cared about his well-being, which wasn't something Castiel was used to getting.
"Okay. Then I'll make sure you're safe and my dad won't stop me from helping you." He knew it would take his dad a few minutes to get there and he was glad for the chance to come up with what he would say. The angel was still watching him. "Finish your sandwich. You may not be able to take it with you."
Castiel looked at his food again and picked it up for another tentative bite. Dean smiled as he tried to think of what he would say. His parents didn't dislike angels but having one like a pet wasn't something they wanted. They didn't view them as animals to be owned, but as people just like humans. But would his dad make him abandon the angel to the street just because he didn't like the idea of owning an angel?
