Dean took another sip of his coffee at the same time that Sam did. There was silence in the room, only broken by their sipping and the sound of the cups making contact with the wooden surface of the table.

Not a word had passed between them for a couple hours since the incident this morning and neither really wanted to bring it up. Dean was hoping they could simply pretend it never happened. Maybe it was something in their tea, or maybe those takeout burritos were bad like Sam had suggested. They did taste kinda funny.

After all, food poisoning or some other hallucinogen was the only explanation he would let himself believe for the dead man with large black wings laying on his bedroom floor.

"Maybe...it was an angel?"

I'm sorry. Dead angel laying on his floor. "...What?"

Dean looked up a bit confused. He honestly wasn't sure if it was Sam who had spoken or if he was hearing things now. He must have been hearing things. Sam of all people, the one who was so logical about everything would never have made such an assumption. Next thing he'll be saying is that he believes in faeries.

"I mean...I did read about them in one of Henry's books. Did you know that some angels have different colored wings? Based off rank or something like that, but I never thought they'd actually show themselves-"

"I'm sorry but am I hearing right or is that failing me too? You're saying that there's an angel lying upstairs on my bedroom floor because you read it in the old man's books?! Are you forgetting he was kinda nuts?"

"He wasn't that crazy Dean" Sam actually liked their grandfather, Henry Winchester. He had always told fascinating stories and had so many strange theories that he had loved to listen to as a child. Dean liked him too when he wasn't spouting nonsense about whatever the hell a Wendigo was.

"Just...think about it. The golden blade, the wings. I mean all he needs is a halo and we're golden"

"No...no we are not golden. Pretending that I believe what you're saying, that means angels are trying to kill me! Freakin angels man!"

"...Right. I forgot about that."

There was silence between them again and Sam took another sip of his coffee the same time Dean picked up his cup with the same idea. "So...uh how's the hip?"

Dean groaned "It stopped bleeding, still hurts like a bitch-" He was interrupted by a loud bang coming from upstairs. In an instant, they shared a look and the same thought crossed their minds. In a couple more seconds they were sprinting towards the stairs.

Dean reached the door first, Sam was right behind him as he stopped suddenly almost causing the taller Winchester to crash into him "Dean what -!"

Dean stared into the room, not daring to move or even breath. At least it didn't feel like he was breathing. He probably wasn't, how could anyone concern themselves with breathing when they were being pierced by the bluest eyes he'd ever seen in his life. He felt so exposed in that instant like those eyes were staring into his soul.

"...Dean..." His voice was so deep, gruff. Dean felt it to his bones. "You are...alright...-"

The stranger was standing, halfway between the door and where he had been lying earlier. He looked like he was struggling to keep himself upright, much less walk any further.

Dean moved before he even remembered giving his body the order, he was pretty sure he hadn't even thought about the action, but he moved anyway, catching the man as he fell forward. For an instant, his skin brushed against Dean's cheek and he felt his entire body catch fire. Metaphorically of course.

He held the...person; he wasn't keen on saying angel quite yet, in his arms. His eyes were closed and it was a wonder he wasn't heavier considering the size of the wings on his back as Dean lifted him and put him on his bed. He stood there, staring at the stranger's face for what felt like eons before Sam cleared his throat. Dean had forgotten his brother had been standing at the door. "So...I suppose he wasn't trying to kill you then?"

Dean glanced at Sam, then back down at the man. "No...I guess not"

Sam left the room a few minutes later, he should have had classes today but decided to skip due to the unforeseen circumstances he was currently presented with. He didn't want to come home to an angel strangling his brother or the other way around, even though he was pretty sure it would most likely be the latter.

Dean stayed by his bed, staring at the man with a strange fascination. He found familiarity in those eyes and it bothered him because he couldn't place where. It was strange because he had never really been fascinated with anything or anyone in such a way before, other than his cars. Then again, this wasn't an ordinary 'anyone' by any means.

Dean stared at the outstretched wings, trying to resist the intense urge to touch the dark feathers. He was trying, he really was, but apparently, his hand didn't get the memo. Before he could stop himself his fingers were running idly over the soft feathers. God that felt good.

The man stirred, letting out a deep groan and the wing Dean was petting twitched ever so lightly. Okay so maybe that felt a little too good.

Suddenly, he felt cold and something like a memory flashed across his mind's eye. He couldn't make out anything, it was too dark, too distorted, but he remembered that feeling, being this cold. Dean blinked and the memory was gone. He retracted his arm so quickly, he didn't even see where he put it, and those deep soul searching eyes opened once more and graced him with their...grace. Yeah, that.

He felt his throat clam up but decided that he wasn't gonna let this mystery man angel person lose consciousness again before he actually got to speak to him. He had questions god damn it.

"H-hey...uh how...how are you feeling?" Okay, so that was a typical question. Definitely not the one he wanted to ask. The one he wanted to ask was more along the lines of 'What the heck were you doing, being half-dead on my floor and what in god's name are you?!'

Yeah. He was keeping it chill.

For a moment the stranger's eyes shifted from Dean's to the ceiling. He made a pained expression and closed them. "I can't believe... I'm still alive..."

Dean chuckled nervously, wondering why he found that to be his only response "Well, if it's any consolation, neither can I"

Blue eyes opened and regarded him with slight confusion. Dean scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously looking away. Suddenly a thought came to him "So, uh, how did you know my name?"

That earned him a smile from the man "I've known your name for...a very long time"

Dean's eyes widened in surprise and his lips flattened to a thin line "...Oh"
Dean looked down briefly trying to process what was said in a way that made it sound slightly less creepy.

"Okay...then, what's your name? You do have a name right?"

The man turned, the smile brightening his pale face and Dean felt as though his heart had stopped beating. "My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lor-"

Castiel's face fell suddenly and he looked away, staring back at the ceiling and let out a sigh. Dean felt something stab at his chest, a little pinprick of hurt and a feeling of loss washed over his soul. He had an overwhelming urge to get that smile back on Castiel's face.

"Castiel huh? I can't believe Sam was right about the angel thing" It was the only thing he could think of to say. Sue him.

There was no response for a few long seconds so Dean looked up and saw that Castiel's eyes were closed again. He felt a panic like nothing he's ever felt before wash over him in that instant "Castiel?"

Still no response, he got up and grabbed Castiel's shoulder, shaking it slightly "...Cas!"

The angel's eyes fluttered for a bit, before closing again and he responded in a croaky voice "I'm...sorry Dean. I just need...to rest a bit"

Dean let out an exaggerated sigh and flopped back in the chair with relief "Ah...okay, no problem"

Dean left the angel to sleep and went into the 'war room' as his grandfather had so called it. He claimed it was the perfect place for planning strategy and attack should there ever come a time when supernatural creatures so desired to take over the world. The table even came equipped with a map of the world and a built-in computer that was supposed to light up if any 'supernatural forces' were to appear. Dean had to admit, it looked pretty cool.

He sat at the table in question and traced his fingers over a random island in the Pacific ocean as his thoughts wondered. Something about Castiel made him feel uneasy. It wasn't ordinary uneasiness though, strangely enough, he welcomed it because it felt like things could start to make sense now. Don't worry, he didn't understand it either.

The door to the bunker opened with a clang like it usually did and Sam came clomping down the stairs with bags of groceries. Oh dear god no.

Dean eyed the bags suspiciously, the last time he let Sam do the shopping they were eating salads and strange vegetarian food until Dean was sure he was gonna start sprouting mushrooms out of his ears.

His fears were confirmed when he saw one bag whose contents were solely on the green side of the color spectrum. Great. Just great. I bet there isn't even any pie in those bags.

"Hey Dean, how's the angel?"

Dean scrunched up his nose as Sam lay the bags of veggies next to him on the table and subtly pushed them away as Sam sat down next to him "He's uh...he's asleep. I think"

"You think? You sure he's not dead again?"

"Yeah no, he said he needed to rest"

"Oh okay. So..." Sam paused and stared at his brother who was still eyeing the bags

"Is there any pie in there?" Sam looked over at the bags and made a face.

"Uh...no, I forgot"

"Of course you did" Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair, flicking one of the red markers on the table across the room with his finger.

"So" Sam continued. "What are we gonna do about the angel?"

"His name is Castiel"

"Oh, okay, Castiel right..."

Sam's eyes suddenly widened and he got up so fast that Dean nearly fell out of his chair "Sam?!"

"Hold on!" Sam ran into the library and Dean heard the sound of books falling and being tossed around before Sam returned with a huge black book, intricate silver patterns decorating the cover and spine. The title was in a language Dean was sure wasn't supposed to exist.

Sam began pointing to a page frantically as he plopped down in his previous seat and slid the book over to Dean. "I knew that name sounded familiar! Castiel or Cassiel I guess, the angel of Thursday, the angel of temperance or serenity..."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows at the picture on the page depicting an angel shrouded in golden light and flowy robes. He was pretty sure it was way over the top and not at all what Castiel actually looked like.

"...According to this, his name is supposed to mean 'Fallen from God', he's also the angel of tears and presides over the death of kings"

Sam stared at the page in silence for a while and a sentence caught his eye. "Woah. Look at this"

He pointed to the sentence "The angel who fell in love with the 'Righteous Man'? What do you think that means?"

"I have no idea, but enough with the theocracy lesson"

"But Dean, maybe this can help you figure out why he's here, maybe-"

"Or, I could just ask him? Yeah, I'm just gonna ask him"

Sam looked at him confused "and, you think he's just going to tell you?"

Dean looked at him equally confused "Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't know, it's just. You seem to trust him an awful lot for someone...something you just met. Something you didn't even believe in a few hours ago."

There was silence between them for a few moments before Dean sighed. "That's the thing Sammy, I don't understand why, but I trust him, I honest to god trust him right off the bat like I've known him all my life and it freaks me out!"

"Okay calm down," Sam thought for a bit "Do you know why it feels like that?"

"No, I-" Dean was silent for a minute. A memory flashed in his mind again, similar to the one from earlier, dark, vague and cold "-I don't know, it feels like I've...seen him before, like in...in my dream..."

Dean looked up at Sam, eyes wide. Sam had a controlled expression on his face as he thought about what Dean said "But that's...that's impossible right? How could I be dreaming...scratch that, having nightmares about some angel I never met?!"

"What were your dreams about?"

Damn it. He didn't want Sam to ask that question. He had been avoiding that question ever since the dreams started. He didn't want Sam to know that the dreams terrified him, even though he could hardly remember any of it.

"Just...I don't know, they're dark"

"And?"

"And what? It's dark, I can't really make out anything, all I can do is...feel"

"What do you feel?" darn it, Sam was in full psychologist mode. There was no backing out now.

"Cold. It's cold" Dean closed his eyes, trying to focus on the vague memories he had of his dreams.

"Then the pain, the pain starts and the...the screaming and I can't...it's not me screaming but I can feel it...like it is me and-"

Dean opened his eyes suddenly and ran his palms through his hair, he was sweating and finding it hard to breathe.

"Dean?" Sam called tentatively. His brother got up and paced a few times before stopping.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's too...confusing"

"Yeah, okay."

Dean nodded and headed for the stairs that led down to the rooms. "Hey, Dean?" Sam called out to him as he reached the door. Dean stopped but didn't turn around "You know you can always talk to me right?"

The older Winchester stayed silent for a few long moments before turning and giving Sam a playful scowl "No chick flick moments, dude"

Sam scoffed "Whatever. Jerk"

"Bitch"