Ever since he was cut off from heaven Castiel's grace hasn't been in tip top condition. Even so he was powerful enough to be able to help the Winchesters around without these ones needing to know that there was something wrong.
Still the idea of sleeping from time to time wasn't a pleasant one. He wasn't used to lower his guard to such magnitude. Wasn't used to feeling so vulnerable less much if he didn't felt safe. How could humans just shut down and lower their guards so comfortably was beyond him.
Therefore he avoided sleeping as much as possible. Avoided showing tiredness around the Winchesters.
The less those two knew about his increasing weakness the better.
He didn't want to see their disappointment. Their concern. Their irritation. But most of all.
He didn't want to be sent away.
Dean had once said that he was a hammer which meant that he was to some extent useful and therefore was allowed to stay by their side.
Without his grace he was nothing but a baby in a trench coat as Dean had once put it which a part of him couldn't help but feel anger at. He wasn't a child. He was an angel of the Lord with more knowledge than any human could ever dream of and skills in fighting no human could surpass.
He wasn't weak nor stupid.
It wasn't his fault that he couldn't understand sarcasm nor jokes. He wasn't human. How was he expected to fit in a place he just didn't belong into? How was he expected to understand a language that just wasn't his own? Rules were so complicated and it didn't matter how much he tried they never ended.
Do not stare. Stare. Don't touch. Touch. Don't speak. Speak. Lie. Don't lie.
It was infuriating.
But he tried. He tried so hard to fit in because he wanted nothing more but to stay by Dean and Sam's side.
But it was just a matter of time before he became useless.
And when that happened the hammer would fall and shatter into a million pieces.
Dean and Sam Winchester would no longer have use of him.
No one ever wanted a broken tool.
Broken tools had no place.
Right now as he laid on Bobby Singer's roof. Staring at the bright stars scattered all across the universe all he could do was sigh. Heart aching with longing. He missed heaven so much.
A cold breeze caressed through the night. Blowing at his hair gently. The sound of the wind felt like a soft lullaby only those gifted with a sharp hearing would be able to enjoy.
It still did nothing to sooth his aching heart.
The roof was hard against his back and he could feel the snow seeping through his trench coat. His shirt. A mild sense of needles stabbing across his back. He ignored it and just kept staring at the universe filled with bright dots of heat. Swirling dust. Multicolored particles.
Ever so slowly he allowed himself to fall into a so much needed sleep.
Even if not forever he would do his best to stay strong.
No one liked weak tools.
~~~~~
When Castiel woke up the sun was just rising. Bright beams of sunlight hitting his face. Filling him with a familiar warmness as he stirred up. He still felt horribly tired. Not quite aware of his surroundings just yet.
But even then he felt it.
His wings were corporeal.
Both huge appendages had tore through his shirt and trench coat during the night and were now hugging him as he stared at nothing. Brain still not fully alert. Soft feathers touching his cheekbones as he buried his face deeper into the half cocoon his wings had created around him.
He didn't knew why but he felt...funny. The tip of his nose was cold but there was a strange warmness that did nothing but threaten to lure him back into a deep slumber. He mildly wondered if there was something wrong with his vessel. His head tipped to the side and so did his body. He wanted to sleep a bit more. Just a bit longer.
But he couldn't do that. He could hear the humans below. Could hear the movement. He had to be alert. Awake.
But this warmness... He buried himself even deeper into the warm and soft cocoon. Rubbing his face against the puffed up feathers as he felt himself growing less and less alert-
No.
He had to snap out of it.
Maybe if he went for a flight his mind would clear up.
And thus he got up. Snow crunching under his shoes and wings hugging him tighter. Eyelids heavy.
He took a step forward.
The snow gave away and so did his foot.
~~~~~
-Sam close that window. Not everyone is part sasquatch.- Grunted Dean as he stabbed his stack of pancakes. His toes were freezing even through the socks, that guy could be a bit considerate. Who even opened a window at 6 AM when there's a bunch of snow outside?
-Bring me the newspapers now that you are up.- Said Bobby as he poured himself some coffee. The steaming brown liquid filling a worn out mug.
Just as Sam got up a bang was heard from above and something fell right on the bushes with an inhuman shriek that pierced through the morning. A pile of snow following right behind getting a strangled sound from whatever it was.
The three hunters wasted no time to leap for their guns. Any remaining sleep they had had gone completely at the sign of a threat.
Dean was the one who approached the window with stealthy steps. Pushing the open window a bit more despite the chill that ran down his spine. Hairs standing on end.
The pile of snow had legs he noticed. Barely visible though but legs either way.
But what caught Dean's absolute attention were the massive wings sprouting from the pile of snow.
Feathers whiter than snow itself. So so white and pure and- Ruffled and sticking in all the wrong directions but still managing to wield an unforgiving beauty that left him completely static.
There were also some twigs and leaves that had no business being stuck amongst those beautiful feathers.
And the snow. As if the pure whiteness of such appendages wasn't enough the snow sprinkling the wings gave the feathers an ethereal vibe. Shimmering with beautiful specks of silver and gold as the sunlight reflected on them.
The sight was breathtaking and for some reason sad.
It felt wrong for such pure things to be here in a yard filled with old cars.
Still.
A muffled sound got Dean's brain to snap back to the present as the pile shifted. An arm finding its way out. An arm clad in a tanned sleeve wearing no gloves at all despite the freezing temperature.
Not that Dean had expected the thing to be human to begin with. He loaded his gun as the thing's second arm came into view.
It was hilarious though. How the thing didn't seem to know that it could just get up. He should shoot it but there was something that just held him from doing so. The wings twitched as another muffled sound came from the pile of snow. Legs moving.
As the wings gave a light flap another sound came from the pile. The left was half hidden between the bushes while the right one was spread wide open. Almost nine feets long with primary feathers holding such sharpness Dean's hunter instincts flared up in alarm.
Dean held the gun in a tight grip. Finger just a second away from pushing the trigger when a head emerged from it.
A very familiar face was revealed.
-Cas?- Dean felt a shiver run down his spine at the realisation that he almost shot the angel. Not that that would had hurt him though part of him didn't want to find out if those wings were an exception to the angel's invulnerability.
He lowered the gun as he stared at the angel who had the nerve to look shocked. As if he wasn't expecting to be in their presence.
The so acclaimed Angel of the Lord was currently owning a small mountain of snow on top of his head with small specks of snow covering his face. Making him look pretty much like a lost puppy. Not happy with that he was also sporting the most bewildered look Dean had ever seen on him.
He honestly looked confused which was both hilarious and alarming. If Dean didn't knew better he would say the guy just woke up or was just half awake despite the fall.
But angels didn't sleep.
Castiel had made that very clear a thousand times.
-The hell were you doing on the roof?- Asked Bobby as he also lowered his gun. Sam following suit. Both men staring dumbfounded at the angel.
Or more precise at the massive wings behind him.
Castiel had wings. That much was known.
He was an angel after all.
But none of them had ever actually seen them.
Yeah Dean saw the shadows at the barn that one time and there was also the sound of flapping wings when the guy arrived or left. Also the burnt marks left by dead angels but... neither of them had ever seen the real deal.
And the real deal was absolutely striking.
-I... slipped.- Castiel looked almost ashamed as he said those words. His voice sounded rougher than usual if that was even possible.
-You slipped...? How...
-I messed on the landing. I was distracted.- Lied Castiel as he began pushing at the bushes. Trying to get up at the best of his capabilities considering the soreness of his muscles and the weird numbness of his limbs. But as if fate was mocking him another pile of snow from the roof fell on him. This time bigger. Burying him once again under pure whiteness.
And the warmness from before was still swirling inside his chest, eyelids heavy.
Something was really wrong with his vessel.
He heard Dean snort.
-Cas? You okay there?- Asked Sam half concerned half fighting the smirk that threatened to split across his face. Castiel was an angel. A soldier of God.
And he was being defeated by a pile of snow.
The angel once again resurfaced looking... odd.
He made a weird face. One the brothers had never seen on him. The moment it clicked what that expression meant the second Castiel sneezed.
Castiel.
Sneezed.
It was a small sound but it wrecked through his whole frame like an earthquake. Wings spreading aimlessly as Dean swore the windows rattled.
-Dude are you okay?
-I'm fine.- Snapped the angel irritated as he finally managed to get up.- As I said. I slipped.- He states dryly as he begins brushing the snow off his persona, he felt sore. And tired. So so tired.
But he has slept enough. He couldn't do it so often, it was risky and weird and human.
So he proceeded to take each twig and little leaf off the shimmering pure white feathers. Ignoring the stares as he did so.
-You slipped...?- Dean didn't knew why but he found that hard to believe. That along with the fact that he could see something was wrong with the angel.
-Yes.
-Come inside.
-No. I-
-It wasn't an invitation it was an order.- Cut off Dean sharply.
Castiel scowled at that and was almost about to snap at the idea of a human ordering him around but then he found himself too tired to care, thus he did as he was told. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to get mad at him, he didn't think he would be able to keep track of his words.
He felt bad though.
To bring snow into Bobby's house. And he couldn't even tuck his wings into the ethereal plane which was beyond weird. Even his grace felt... odd.
Almost dormant.
-I'm sorry.- He couldn't help but say at the snow that followed him inside, wings dragging behind him like a dead weight, he had never had them corporeal but he was pretty sure they weren't suppose to feel as heavy as they did. Bobby waved his hand as if to brush the issue away but Castiel still felt bad about it.
-Are your wings hurt?- Asks Sam concerned as he takes a glance at the limp wings behind the angel. How could Castiel survive falling off a building, being shot, stabbed and a thousand of other things but could damage his wings from falling off a roof? It didn't make sense.
-No. They are perfectly fine.
Ah.
There was that funny feeling from yesterday again. The one that made Castiel's head feel like it's floating. Or was it his vision zooming out? He rubbed the back of his hand against his eye. It itched and his hands were frozen which part of him found more irritating than it should.
-Why are they... you know. I mean, weren't they suppose to be invisible? Burn the eyes of those who took a peek of your true form?- Asks Sam intensely studying the bright appendages. Even without sunlight the feathers seemed to hold a permanent shimmer to them. It was enticing.
-I...- Castiel glanced over his shoulder at his wings. He once again tried to shift them back into the ethereal plane but found it near impossible to do so.
This shouldn't be happening.
He shouldn't have such shameful control over his wings.
He should be able to pull them back.
Should be able to hide them.
But the more he tried the more his grace seemed to grow brisk. He tried forcing it but it just wouldn't give in, his grace burnt with a foreign weight across the whole vessel. It made his head spin and his chest tighten.
And suddenly his grace flickered across his veins.
Then it also became dead weight.
~~~~~
Having Castiel falling off the roof when he wasn't even one to appear on roofs but in a corner to stare at you like the creep all angels were until noticed should had been enough to tell them something was wrong.
Having the angel displaying his wings let alone dragging them around should had been another clue.
Sam had asked if he was harmed. He said no.
He then asked about the corporeal wings. Mostly because he had a feeling angels didn't just go around broadcasting their wings. They took painful measures to avoid their sight.
This time Castiel didn't answer. He just glanced at his own wings with an uncertain frown.
That should had been another sign.
He stared at the wings for a while with an intensity only Castiel could muster.
He seemed to grow quite irritated as he kept staring at the wings.
Then his eyes lit up with literal light for a millisecond before switching off.
Just like that for the second time that morning the angel met the ground.
-Holy-!- Dean was by the angel's side in less than a second, kneeling on the ground and searching for his face.
-Is it some kind of spell? Is he hurt?- Asks Sam as he appears right at the other side of the angel.
-How the hell will I know? Dammit Cas.- Cussed Dean as tried and failed to find some mark, a sign, anything that could tell him what it was.- There is nothing on him.
-Are you sure?- Asked Bobby, hating the fact that he couldn't get up the damn chair.
-Am I sure? Of course I'm sure! I thought only rare spells could-
-Dean.- Cut off Sam as he noticed something, his perplexed tone of voice caught the other's attention.
-What?
-He's... asleep.- Sam was staring at Castiel like he was seeing him for the first time.
-Come again?
-He's sleeping.- Repeated Sam. Dean looked back at the unconcious angel, and for a matter of fact he did look tired, awfully so.
-That's not possible. He doesn't sleep.
-Well he does and he is sleeping. I think he passed out from exhaustion.
-That would explain his disgraceful fall back there.- Came Bobby's voice as he stared down at the unconcious angel on his living room.
-But he doesn't sleep. He isn't suppose to sleep.
-Maybe angels do sleep but not as often as we do?
Dean still didn't felt convinced.
-So what are we gonna do with him? Do we leave him here until he wakes up or-
-You ain't leaving that angel on my floor. At least put him on the couch you idjits.- Bobby's protest was met with deadpanned looks.
-How do you expect to fit these on a couch?- Asks Dean motioning towards the still very visible very hypnotic wings. Now closer he had to bit back the urge to touch them and for the looks of it Sam was doing the same.
-Put him on his stomach.- Told Bobby, his voice came out as that of a man speaking with two idiots.
Sam and Dean got to work. Each brother got an arm and raised the angel from the floor and it took Sam's precise footing in order to stop the three from meeting the ground the second the weight of Castiel registered with them. No human should be this heavy, not even with those damn wings.
But Castiel was no human and the damn bastard weighted tons.
Dean almost broke his back helping getting the angel on the couch while avoiding breaking a wing or touching them in the process.
But they succeeded.
And Castiel now laid on his stomach on Bobby's couch. Left wing half spread like a curtain of whiteness across the floor and the other one tucked against the couch, the wings had moved and shifted around on their own the second he was laid down on the couch.
-How long do you think angels sleep?- Wonders Dean after a while, he had changed clothes and now sat in a corner staring at the unnervingly relaxed angel.
-How am I suppose to know?- Is the answer he gets from Sam who had also changed into warmer clothes and was now sitting also in a corner, staring.
Bobby had unsurprisingly gone back to sleep. With this cold neither could blame him. Though before doing so he had ordered Sam to put a blanket on Cas at least which no one knew if he even needed but whatever.
-Aren't you a walking encyclopedia of weirdness?
-Shut up Dean.
Silence fell in the room again.
Not even a snore from Castiel.
Seeing him like that was almost alarming, Dean didn't even knew the guy was able to make any other expressions aside from confused, stoic and pissed. And now he was there looking more relaxed than he had ever done since he met him.
And those damn wings...
He still remembers when he told Cas that angels were suppose to have feathery wings. To be honest he had expected fluffy wings not wings that looked able to saw him in half like a piece of butter.
Sam for his side was also staring. He couldn't help it. Those wings were massive and just so beautiful it made his chest tighten. He wondered if Cas used them to fight considering how sharp the longest feathers were. Were all wings white? Did all angels flew at the same speed? Could he fly in this plane with those wings? Were the wings as invulnerable as he was?
Most importantly.
Was he allowed to touch them? As weird as it sounded he wanted to touch them. Though he didn't even knew if he would be allowed to. Castiel had never seem to like him that much.
That was a thought that he liked to not dwell on too much.
The only angel who wasn't a dick disliked him.
Life really liked to give him the middle finger.
~~~~~
Castiel woke up past noon. Dean was nowhere to be seen and Sam had taken it to read in the corner.
-Hey Cas.- Greeted Sam as he noticed the angel was awake. Castiel didn't answer as he brought himself up into a sitting position, grimacing as he did so. The blanket fell off on the floor and he looked at it for a while. Wings folding behind him.
-I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened.- Muttered Cas as he dropped his head on his hand, there was a weird ache in his head and even though he didn't felt as tired as before he still felt... heavy. He felt his wings hugging him, wanting to hide him.
-That's fine. Are you okay? I thought angels didn't need to sleep.
Castiel didn't answer nor looked up, his grace felt less brisk but not enough to hide his wings and he hated it. He hated being so vulnerable.
From the corner of his eye he saw Sam's legs approaching and he couldn't help but flinch as his head jerked up, feathers puffing out. Sam halted at that, raising his hands in a peace sign.
-It's okay. I just... you don't look so good are you sure you are okay?
-I'm perfectly fine.- Even if he said that he found himself leaning back against the couch, wings sagging at his sides as he pressed a hand against his forehead. Something was off about his vessel, why did it felt so weak and heavy?
-Cas what's wrong?- Asks Sam gently as he cautiously approached the angel, as if approaching a frightened animal.
Castiel eyed him warily but did nothing to stop Sam from approaching him. He watched the younger Winchester reach out to him and he leaned away.
-It's okay. I just want to check something.- Assured Sam, Castiel didn't move this time but he gave Sam an odd look when he pressed his hand against the angel's forehead.
-What are you doing?- Asked Cas frowning in confusion when Sam removed his hand from his forehead just to press the back of it against his cheek.
-Cas can angels get sick?
-What? Of course not.
What kind of question was that? He was an angel of the Lord. Cut off from heaven or not. Angels didn't get sick that was a human thing.
-I think you are sick.- Tells Sam feeling as confused as the angel looked, Cas' skin felt unnervingly warm.
-Angels don't get sick. That's a thing only humans do.- Tells Castiel defensively as he tries to get up, but two hands on his shoulders stop him from doing so which just serve to make him glare at the younger Winchester.
-Human thing or not you can't go around like that less much with this weather. It could get worse. So just go back to sleep. It will help.
-I don't need sleep.- Snapped the angel and there was something in his tone of voice that just felt wrong.
Fear.
No.
Not fear.
Anxiety.
Mistrust.
It just took a moment for Sam's brain to click.
Powerful beings who had nothing to worry about but that the moment they became weak hell itself would crawl out to get their claws on said beings.
Anna had been proof of that.
Sleeping definitely had to be on the NOT-DO list of any angel who wasn't at its 100%.
-It's fine Cas you are safe here I promise. Just get some sleep and you will feel better.
Castiel gave him another odd look. Staring at him for a solid second as if staring right into his soul. Searching. For what? Sam wasn't sure.
Castiel was sure Sam was doing this so he would be able to help when the need arises.
The problem was that he couldn't confirm his thoughts because the Winchester looked honestly worried. Not about his skills decreasing but him in general.
It was weird.
Even more so because for some reason he found himself believing him.
Trusting that he was safe here.
Part of him knew it. That's why deep down he hadn't fought so hard to keep himself from blacking out.
And thus he laid back down, wings folding behind him.
He noticed Sam's stare at the movement.
Of course the intellectual brother would react like that to his wings. He wasn't even surprised.
Still.
Castiel stared at him for a solid second. Wings twitching as his eyes fell on the human's hands. He wasn't sure about this. He didn't trust anyone near his wings.
For one side angel feathers could be used for powerful spells which meant non-angelic hands were not welcome near his wings.
And on the other hand his wings were what allowed him to fly. One of the things he enjoyed most therefore another reason to be wary about hands near them.
Still.
Part of him trusted this person.
And he wanted to show it.
Plus he also could see Sam wasn't sure Castiel would want him touching him.
Castiel knew Sam had all the right to think so.
He had never been that nice to the younger Winchester. He wanted to mend it.
-You can touch them.
His words got the Winchester to look at him like he just got caught sinning with the seven deadly sins.
-W-What?
Sam had never felt as flustered and half afraid as he did now. He must have heard wrong because surely there was no way the angel would allow him to touch his wings, he couldn't-
-You want to touch my wings. I give you permission.
Sam felt his breath catch in his throat. Was he really allowed to touch them? Before he had wanted to do so but now... those wings looked so pure it almost felt wrong to taint them with his touch.
Still.
Sam's hesitant hand reached for the closest wing which seemed to open ever so slightly, as if inviting him to touch it. A light touch was gifted to it. Castiel seemed to grow tense and for a moment Sam was sure the angel would tear his arm out and stick it down his throat with the look he acquired.
But he didn't.
He just relaxed.
So Sam proceeded to first run his fingers along the bone. Feeling the strength of it and just how real it was. As his fingers switched to touch the feathers Castiel's voice reached his ears.
-Careful with the primaries... The long ones at the bottom... they are sharp...
Sam nodded at that. He had expected the feathers to be soft which for the record were softer than anything he had ever touched in his life. The larger ones were kinda stiff though and as Castiel said held a dangerously sharp edge.
As he kept running his hand across the feathers he reached the part where the wings connected to his shoulderblades. The feathers there were softer. Like. Really soft. Not even in his wildest dreams would had he thought that something so soft could exist. The touch elicited a content sigh from the angel who seemed to almost melt at the touch.
Huh.
-How does it feels like? I mean...- Sam wasn't sure how to ask what he suddenly was wondering as he saw the angel looking more relaxed than any human could ever look.
-I believe... humans would see it as playing with their hair... it's... nice...
To be honest Castiel's brain had turned into a goo of happiness and relaxation a while ago.
He never expected it to feel like this.
He felt so at peace that he couldn't help but let out another sigh of content.
Sam for his side found himself smiling a bit at that. Staring down at the bright feathers. Shimmering with specks of silver and gold and now that he looked closer the little feathers on his shoulderblades held blueish sparks, glowing...
Almost like grace.
Interesting.
He glanced back at the angel and found him once again asleep. This time a small smile adorning his face.
As he looked down once again he found himself threading across the feathers, smoothing the few who were in disarray out of having nothing better to do but also not wanting to stop touching the wings he knew he would never see again once Castiel rested enough.
He wondered though, as he threaded through the feathers with mighty care, if angels' wings worked the same as those of a bird. Did they molt? Could they fly with the wings corporeal? As huge and strong as they were he doubted they were enough to lift a human body.
But again.
That human body wasn't even the angel's body.
Not for the first time he found himself wondering how Castiel's true form looked.
-Sam. What are you doing?- Dean's sharp voice caught Sam's voice and as he glanced up it was to find Dean's cold gaze.
-I'm-
-Just because he's asleep doesn't mean you get to touch whatever you want from him.- Cut off Dean sharply.
-What? Dude he was awake and he said it was fine for me to touch them.- Tells Sam horrified at his brother's implications.- He said that this was what for us was playing with someone's hair... He... looked happy...- He says the last softly and looking back at the angel's peaceful face.
-Oh.
-Dean he was warm... and he practically passed out when I started touching these... do you think this has to do with him falling?- Asks Sam as he gives his brother a worried looked. If Castiel started sleeping and getting sick...
What happened when an angel fell?
-He's fine.- Even if Dean says that he is already stalking across the room to touch Castiel's forehead. He then stalked back to the kitchen and a few moments later came back with a cloth that he put on the angel's forehead.
Castiel didn't even stir.
-What the hell are you doing with those?- Asks Dean pointing at what Sam had been doing to the feathers since Castiel fell asleep.
-Straightening them. Smoothing them back down. He seemed to out of it to fix them all earlier.- Told Sam matter of fact and watching as Dean stared at the wings for a moment before glancing back at Sam.
-How do I do that?
~~~~~
Castiel woke up to an odd feeling.
Peace.
Something was missing.
Something he had gotten used to a long time ago but no longer was there.
The itch.
His wings were no longer itching.
And that was such an odd and pleasant feeling.
He had forgotten how it felt like to feel completely comfortable.
But if that itch was gone it meant...
He opened his eyes and slowly sat up, pulling the blanket off himself and placing it at his side, Sam and Dean weren't at sight which gave him the opportunity to inspect his wings. Stretching out the left one and staring at it.
The feathers that had been in perpetual disarray since he couldn't reach them were no longer in disarray.
Someone had groomed his wings.
And that... it filled him with more emotions than he had ever felt.
-Cas are you okay?- Dean was standing at the doorframe giving the angel a puzzled look.
-Did you fix them? Why?- Asks Castiel, voice weak as he glanced at Dean and suddenly the hunter felt like he had done something wrong, because stick-up-his-ass Castiel was giving him a near tears look no angel should have.
-Sammy thought it was a good idea. Were we suppose to not touch those?- Asks Dean hoping that he and Sam didn't just break some kind of angel etiquette or something.
-No... I just... thank you.
There shouldn't be such amount of gratitude for something so simple thinks Dean and less much for the angel to look so happy and broken at the same time.
-Dude, they were just feathers there's nothing to thank for.- Dean tries to brush off hoping that Car would stop looking like he is about to cry over that
His words just gain him a sad smile from the angel.
-I know but... they have been like that for so long and it was so uncomfortable but I couldn't reach them with this body and... I'm really grateful.- Tells the angel and really why was he looking so happy over that? But something in his words caught Dean's attention.
-What do you mean they have been like that for a long time? If it was so uncomfortable why not ask one of those feathered dicks to help you?
-I'm not that popular in heaven right now and no one would want to help me.- Says Castiel lowly, the truth was that his wings had been in disarray since he got Dean out of hell but no angel would dare to offer their help because his wings had been "tainted" by hell.
No one wanted to touch him for he was stained with hell's air.
But he couldn't tell Dean that. He didn't want him to feel bad about it or like Castiel was blaming him for it because he wasn't.
He didn't blame Dean for this.
-Well Sammy and I are here. We can help whenever those feathery things get annoying.- Offers Dean awkwardly, to be honest it had been almost therapeutic to just sort and smooth feathers down.
He wouldn't mind getting used to it.
-You don't have to do that.- Frowns Castiel, he didn't want to inconvenience the brothers over something he had gotten used to, yeah the current peace was nice but still...
-Shut up I'm not asking you I'm telling you that whenever it gets annoying you bring your feathery ass to us. We are friends aren't we?
-We are?
What a way of punching Dean in the gut.
-Of course we are you dumbass. That's why you are on that couch with Sammy's old blanket and not freezing your ass outside.
Castiel looked down at the worn out blanket, if he focused well enough he could make out bats' patterns no longer able to be 100% seen.
Friends.
Was he really allowed to be friends with Sam and Dean Winchester?
They had groomed his wings without him asking them to. Dean wanted him to come to them when his wings needed to be groomed...
He doubted either of them knew what that meant but it didn't matter.
Because even if he was to tell them he doubted a human would be able to understand the amount of trust one must have to allow their wings to be touched let alone groomed.
Sam and Dean Winchester were his friends.
And that's all that mattered.
-Thank you Dean.
