I'm so sorry for the wait. As all of you know, winter break is very busy. I've changed my mind with the direction of this piece. Instead of making this a yummy short story, I'm going to give it a plot. It took me a little while to figure it out, but I think I have it. Any suggestions you have are welcome. I have very open ears.

Also, thank you for all the wonderful reviews. You all are awesome. Keep willing Misha to come back to the show as Cas!

And I promise the whumpage will calm down, although not too much.

Happy New Year!

Chapter Three: A Real Magician

Before his father introduced the dismal and horrifying world of the supernatural to him, Dean didn't believe in bad magic. Ghosts were only the phantoms of nightmares, vampires belonged in bad horror movies, and monsters were legends from silly children's books.

But he never stopped believing good magic was real.

When he was five, all he wanted was a pet dragon. He settled for an imaginary friend one. When he was six, he decided he wanted to be a UFO hunter and catch an alien. When he was seven, he wanted to be a magician. More than anything, he wished to perform good magic—real magic.

He remembered kneeling next to his mom beside his bed at night. He memorized the softness of his mother's hands as they clamped over his own small ones. Her long dark eyelashes would graze her cheeks while her rosy lips moved with wispy, loving words. They would pray together every night before he would go to sleep. As she'd guide him through his prayer, she would ask him to call upon angels to watch over their family. Sometimes she would use the angels' real names. She'd even call upon Archangel Michael. He believed these holy messengers of God would protect him in the ways his mother and father couldn't. They would always watch over him and he knew in his heart they would always be together and safe.

It's funny how things turned out.

But there was one angel that watched over Dean. There was one angel that made Dean believe there's good in the world. One angle made Dean believe good magic still exists.

That angel was hurting and waiting for him to perform his magic. The problem was…Dean was never really good at magic tricks.

Castiel laid face up, head carefully placed on Dean's crossed legs, wings properly concealed. The angel's face was calm, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, just like his mother's. The hunter cradled his head in his hands like he would a delicate flower. For the past few hours, the angel had been seizing and retching in painful bursts. Every five or so minutes he'd have an episode. Neither Dean nor Sam had any idea what was causing the convulsions.

Cas turned his head sharply, breath hitching in pain for the twenty eighth time that night.

"Nurgh!" Cas grunted through clenched teeth, eyes slammed shut, shielding them from the stinging sweat beginning to roll down his brow. Ripples of pain shot up Cas's spine, rocking his body in intense convulsions. "Gyugh! Dean!" He howled and reached up with a trembling hand and gripped Dean's shirt.

For the first ten or so episodes, Cas had been able to keep it together. He would suffer in silence and not mutter a word. Rarely would a grunt or groan would break his composure.

The seizures continued to get worse, each one more violent than the last. Now, Dean was trying to silence the angel, in fear the neighbors would hear his screams.

Cas bawled.

"Make him stop, Dean. Make him stop. Please. Please make him it stop it." He sobbed loudly while both of his arms grasped and pulled wildly at Dean, desperately trying to get a hold on something tangible to bring him away from the agony. His fingernails scratched at the back of Dean's neck and down his arms, leaving behind bright red welts. Dean's heart ached as he tried to still his hurting friend.

"I wish I could, Cas. If I had the power to, I'd take it all away. I'd take it all away." He recited these words many times now. They had become a mantra. "I have you here, Cas. I'm here with you. He doesn't have you because I have you."

Dean didn't know who "he" was, but he hated him. He was going to kick that bastard's ass so hard.

"I'm going to kill whoever is doing this to you, Cas. I'm going to kill him." Castiel only continued to yelp and thrash. Dean felt so powerless. This angel protected and watched over him in selfless devotion. He rebelled for him. He lost everything for him and there was nothing Dean could do to stop his pain.

Eventually, Cas's tremors died down and his breathing became normal save for a few hick-ups. He gently ran his fingers through the angel's hair, shushing him softly and somberly. He couldn't take the pain away, but he could try to sooth his mind. Cas unclenched his twitching fingers from around Dean's biceps. The hunter wondered if Cas was being electrocuted from the inside-out.

"It'll be okay, buddy."

Cas opened his eyes and gazed into Dean's. They were so big and glazed, swimming with agony. Slowly, their depths cleared, the pain chipping away. It was like watching a roaring ocean calm.

"Oh." The good angel seemed to have gained a decent sense of lucidity for the first time in the long hours he'd been retching. He tilted his head lazily back and forth, noticing his position in Dean's lap. He made a move to get up but Dean pushed him back down. "I sorry. Not trouble. Much. Sorry." His was trying to gain control of his frazzled brain.

"Cas, seriously? Are you fucking kidding me? Trouble? I'm just glad you're finally sane. You've been out of your mind for hours."

Cas turned his head away, face downcast. "Cas, god damn it, you're not a trouble. I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on here! Who's doing this to you?"

Cas ignored him. "Where's Samuel?" His eyes roved around the room searching for a sign of the younger Winchester.

"Uh, Sammy went to get some meds from the store. We thought they might help with the pain."

"No, no, no." He slapped his hands over his eyes. "Human medication cannot aid me in any way." Cas was still slightly delirious.

"Well, to hell with that idea." Everything seemed hopeless right about now.

After a couple of minutes Cas let loose a deep breathy sigh.

"I do not wish to experience that again." Dean continued to run his fingers through the angel's hair. Hopefully the touch would liven Castiel up.

Dean watched his fingers thread through the dark hair at a loss of words. He didn't know what direction to turn to. He focused on the almost black locks of hair as they tickled the sensitive but calloused nerve endings on his fingertips. They grazed across something very, very soft. Whatever it was, it was much softer than normal hair. He tilted his head to peer down Cas's neck. His eyes were met with a tuft of very fine, white hair.

"Uh, Cas...You have some white hair here…" He mumbled under his breath. "…the fuck?" He stroked it again, perplexed by its softness. It felt like the angel's wings.

Cas reached around and placed his shaky hand over Dean's, finding the tuft easily. Cas touched the hair and froze. They sat there like that for a few minutes, Cas's hand over Dean's. The angel seemed to have withdrawn into a trance like state once again. His eyes were locked on the ceiling. Dean peered down curiously at the angel's face, wary he was going to have another seizure.

"Cas? Dude, are you okay?" Cas noticeably tensed and his limbs went stiff. Dean felt a wave shudder through Cas's body.

The air crackled and snapped like a rabid animal. The energy in the room ramped up and the walls hummed. The air around Dean went freezing, like an Arctic gust blew past him. Choking noises escaped from Cas's mouth.

"Cas? Cas! What the hell is happening?" The angel opened his mouth and deafening, hollow bells split through the air. A bright beam of blue light spilled suddenly outwards from the depths of his throat. He started to gag awfully as the light grew more intense, hands clasped on his neck. The beam had a piercing quality. It was sharp and almost corporeal. Dean was sure that if he'd stick his hand out to touch it, his fingers would be sliced to bits.

The light was bearable for a second more then the beam burst, illuminating the entire room in a severe, brilliant, dazzling light. Dean only caught a moment's glimpse of Cas's form before he slammed his eyes shut.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God. A cold fear churned in Dean's gut, paralyzing his brain. He was terrified. Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas. All he could comprehend at that instant was his friend.

The light receded, flickering out of existence from behind Dean's clenched eyelids. When Dean blinked his eyes open, the room was a blur of light colors and red dots. He blinked hard, clearing his vision. What he saw stunned him.

The good angel's hair was white. It wasn't just white, it was lighter than white. If heaven had a color, this would be it.

Hesitantly, he reached out and tussled it. It felt like it was made out of cold water, silk, and pure energy. Each hair was threaded crystal. It slipped through his fingers without snagging and sent his skin ablaze with pleasant tingles. It was so lustrous. It was kind of addicting. His gaze traveled to Castiel's face. His skin was flawless, 5 o-clock shadow erased and replaced with porcelain. It looked like Cas had a light-bulb under his skin. It glowed from the inside and radiated outwards in a gentle aura. His eyebrows and eyelashes were also white, but still visible and… radiant. He was undoubtedly gorgeous.

Dean reached down and touched his cheek, overcome with the dynamic sensations emanating from Cas's presence. Castiel's eyes moved slowly under his eyelids. He must have passed out. His chest moved up and down methodically. He looked calm, thank you Jesus.

Dean didn't know what was happening and why his friend went through an apparent transformation, but he did know one thing for sure:

Cas was an angel. Dean knew the true meaning—the true feeling- of an angel now.

Dean took a pledge to protect Cas. He would never let him out of his sight. He and Sam would solve this riddle. He would work good magic, somehow.