Sam was the first one to wake up. Soft blankets and the familiar scent of dust, old wood and old books making him sigh with content. The warmness of sleep still clinging to him as he sat up. The wooden floor was cold. A welcoming feeling to the comfortable warmness of the rest of his skin.

After a quick trip to the bathroom he was out of the room. Padding across the wood with sleep still in his system. His destination being the kitchen.

But as he walked past the living room his brain halted and so did his feets.

There was something on the couch. It was still too dark to make it out but it was there.

And it wasn't human.

He felt himself reaching for the gun inside an old vase near the kitchen's frame. He needed to warn Dean and Bobby but how?

And how did this thing got in?

This place was practically warded against anything.

The shadow seemed to move as he got closer though rather than threatening it was more of a light movement. A sound resembling a sigh coming from it.

He was about to load the gun when he caught sight of the familiar trench coat as the light outside seemed to be growing little by little. Enough to give him some clue of what "it" was.

"It" being none other than Cas.

It took him more than he was willing to admit to realize that the angel was sleeping.

Castiel.

Sleeping.

Still that didn't explain-

The shadow twitched again. The closest to him seemed to drop (melt?) across the floor. It was huge and the shape reminded him of-Oh.

His hairs stood on end as his heart skipped a beat. He lowered the gun. Knowledge that none of them was in potential danger making his shoulders relax. Gaze fixated on the shadow. Part of him was almost buzzing with hope and excitement about what those shadows could be.

Another part of him felt considerably on edge. As if there was somethingwrongabout the fact that these were showing. Cas has never not even once shown his wings aside from the shadows Dean spoke of when he first summoned the angel.

As the outside seemed to grow brighter the better sight he got of the angel on the couch. Asleep. Oblivious to the world around him.

And now Sam could make them out.

One wing limp at his side and the other one tucked in a loose almost lazy fashion on Cas' back.

The feathers were dark. Darker than anything Sam had ever seen and even in the dim light he was able to see that these were no fluffy feathery things lore made them to be.

It took his whole will power so as to not reach out to touch them. Part of him feeling like it waswrongto do such a thing and another one not wanting to touch them without permission. Maybe he couldn't even touch them. If Cas never showed them it had to be for a reason.

So he stepped back, put the gun away and after putting a blanket on the angel with the stealth of a ninja he went back to the kitchen in order to start making coffee. Taking a peek at the living room from time to time.

Dean's footsteps were heard after a while and not soon after his brother appeared in the kitchen still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It was nice to see Dean relaxed for once. It was rare for them to get such amount of sleep in a safe place. Especially now with the Apocalypse going on.

Inevitably Dean seemed to catch sight of the "thing" because he tensed up and reached for the gun strapped under the table. Sam stopped him before he could even take it.

-That's Cas.

Dean frowned at that. Staring at the angel for a moment before getting up. The first rays of sunlight were starting to sneak through the window. Caressing the wings. His feathers held the same multicolored shimmer oil would wield if sunlight was to reflect on it. It was almost hypnotic.

Dean unlike Sam reached to poke the one on the floor with his toes.

It was a light touch but it was enough to make Dean realize that this was the softest thing he had ever touched in his life.

Cas though didn't seem to rejoice on that because he frowned in his sleep. Shifting on the couch for a moment as the feathers fluffed up. The wing swept across the floor in a lazy movement. Leaving deep cuts on the floor in its wake that told Dean he could get smoothly sawed in half by these feathers.

-Dean.- Hissed Sam from the kitchen like a scandalized/disapproving parent. As if Dean just committed some kind of sacrilege.

Dean ignored him and pressed his toes once again against the soft feathers. This time Castiel's wing jerked as a full on shudder seemed to wreck through his frame. A sound resembling a moan of discomfort abandoning the sleeping angel. That was reason enough for Dean to not do it again.

-Dude he's got chicken wings.- Claims Dean as he turns to look at Sam with child-like wonder. Sam gifts him bitch face number five.

Dean goes back to sitting at the kitchen but unlike Sam he didn't bother to hide his staring. He straight up dragged a chair to sit by the doorframe.

Bobby soon making an apparition.

Bobby unlike the brothers didn't attempt to pull a gun on the sleeping angel. The light outside was enough to give the "thing"'s identity away by now.

But just because he didn't pull a gun on him it didn't meant he was at peace. Despite how long he had known Castiel by now to have such a... corporeal proof of his non-human status was making every single hunter instinct in his being flare up in warning.

Who would had told him he would one day end up with a friggin' angel sleeping on his couch.

Those feathers held an enigmatic shimmer to them. And as the sunlight hit them with more room the sight kinda made it hard for the three hunters to focus on breakfast.

There was an angel on the couch.

One who apparently trusted this place enough to fall asleep.

-Since when is Feathers over there in need of sleep?- Asks Bobby staring at the huge wings. The one spread on the floor had to be near the eight or nine feets and the longest feathers seemed to hold a dangerous sharpness in them.

It reminded Dean of Castiel's words about being a soldier. A warrior of God.

-Since never? I thought he didn't need sleep.

-Maybe he got tired.- Tells Sam remembering Cas' sorry state after the time travel issue a week ago.

A wing twitched and a feather went loose. Floating lazily until it hit the floor. And as shimmering as it looked none of them made attempts to get it. The single thought of wanting a feather from such magnificent appendages felt wrong in so many levels. Like something you justshouldn'tdo.

And as the sunlight reached Castiel's face it was just a matter of time before he began stirring, frowning as he did so, as if the sun was offending his very existence. And as he cracked his eyelids open he did nothing but stare at his own wing. As if processing the sight of it or even the fact that he was alive. Sleep still clouding his gaze.

Then his brain seemed to connect with the rest of him because next thing the trio knew was that Cas jerked up with such speed he brought the blanket Sam had put on him with him.

Castiel angel of the Lord got tangled with said blanket and it would had been hilarious the far from dignified scenario of an angel fighting a blanket if Cas' first instinct/reflex hadn't been to flap his wings aimlessly.

The strong wind of said action knocked over thousands of books and stacks of papers. Even brought down a lamp.

And Castiel still crashed on the ground with a yelp.

The silence reigned over the room for quite a while.

-Feathers? Are you okay there son?- Called out Bobby after a moment when he noticed the person in question wasn't doing a single thing to bring himself up.

No answer.

But he did shift. Pushing himself up and untangling from the offending blanket. He didn't look at them but the fact that his usual solemn face was nowhere to be seen was a bit alarming.

If all he looked... ashamed. Embarrased even.

An emotion none of them ever thought the angel capable of feeling at all.

-My apologies. I didn't meant to cause a mess.- Muttered Castiel as he took on the books, papers and feathers scattered all across the floor. Wings tucked tightly behind his back.

-Forget about that dude you gotwings.-Dean's voice made Castiel look up. Frowning.

-I'm an angel Dean of course I have wings.- Castiel sounded like he was calling Dean an idiot from the depths of the soul he didn't have.

It got Sam coughing to hide a snicker.

-I know. I mean why are those out? Is that some kind of angelical boner or something?- Dean's words make Bobby roll his eyes and Sam choke on his own spit. Castiel though tilts his head to the side in question. Wings relaxing behind him.

-Boner...?

Before Dean could answer Sam smacked his hand on his brother's mouth. Over his dead body would Sam allow Dean to corrupt the angel.

-It's nothing Cas don't worry about it.- Told Sam to which Castiel frowned at him before nodding. The angel then rolled his shoulders and the wings disappeared out of existence. Then he proceeded to kneel on the floor and start picking the feathers.

Papers and books on the other hand floated back to their place which got the hunters raising their eyebrows.

Talk about an easy life.

-Why were you sleeping? I thought you didn't need sleep.

-I wasn't sleeping.- For a being who was billions of years old Castiel pretty much sounded like a child claiming to have nothing to do with the broken cookie jar.

-Uh-huh.- The three hunters nodded in synch totally not believing a word which got the angel to frown and stop picking up feathers.

-I wasn't. I was... meditating.

-Of course buddy of course.

-Good.- Castiel finished picking the feathers and stood back up. Staring down at them for a moment before glancing back at the hunters, a hesitant second later he offered the handfuls of feathers.- Keep them. Angel feathers are needed in some powerful spells and I doubt humans can get hold of them that easy.

If joy was a person Sam Winchester was definitely that person. Castiel had never seen a human look so full of wonder and joy in his entire life and the way the younger Winchester's hands hovered over his handful of feathers almost as if it was a sin to touch them was... hilarious.

-Are you sure?- Asked Sam feeling like he was about to pass out. Castiel nodded and handed over the feathers.

And it was the softest thing Sam has ever touched in his entire life.

Dean now at his side took a feather and inspected it.

-I thought angels were suppose to have white wings.

-Only the lightbringer has white wings.- Tells the angel, as if that was something everyone should by logic know.

-Huh.

Dean twirled the feather between his fingers. Watching as the action along with the light made the feather shimmer with multicolored specks.

He guessed this was prettier than white.