Alastair
When Dean woke up in the morning, the first thought that crossed his mind was that Castiel was suffering from some kind of a mental disorder. The reason for this thought was that the brown duck was lying on his back with his webbed feet facing the sky. From time to time he would wave his right foot vigorously while the left one stayed perfectly calm.
He was going to wake his friend, but Castiel already had opened his eyes.
"Morning, Dean," he rasped.
"Morning, Cas. Gotta say, you have a strange way of sleeping," Dean chuckled.
"I… uh…You know the ants bit me and…" Castiel scratched his head awkwardly and hesitated.
"And? Go on," Dean encouraged him.
"I had a burning sensation in my anus and the night breeze just felt nice," Castiel quacked, embarrassed.
Dean stood there, completely still, his beak and eyes wide open, face showing ultimate astonishment. The duck was perfectly depicting the statue 'King Priam of Troy Witnesses Death of Hector', sculpted by an anonymous Greek sculptor.
"I... uh... gonna drink some water," he muttered. He shook his head, smashing the imaginary statue image, and waddled towards the large wooden basin, which was filled with fresh water.
Castiel just flipped on his stomach and looked at the chicken house. Suddenly he heard footsteps and saw a woman approaching.
"Hey ducky," she greeted him and scattered some bread crumbs and grain on the ground. "Eat, now," she said before going and unlocking the chicken house door. She left some food for the hens and the rooster near the chicken house.
The hens rushed out with a lot of cackling and hurriedly pecked the food. Castiel ate, but from time to time he raised his head from grain and contemplated the hens. There were four and all of them were beautiful. One was white, another black, and the other two red. He looked over to the place where Dean went. His friend was swimming in the basin, diving under the water with merry quacking. Dean was having fun.
Castiel felt lonely and decided to talk to the hens. He waddled towards them.
"Hello," he politely greeted them. "My name is Castiel." He reached his right wing towards the white hen.
"Hi Castiel," crooned the white hen and shook his wing. "My name is Bela. And these are: Ruby, Meg, and Lilith"
"Nice to meet you, ladies." Castiel smiled at them. "What's the rooster's name?" he asked.
"He's not just a rooster. He's our husband and his name is Alastair," answered Meg, the black hen.
Suddenly the hens made a frightened cackle and stepped back.
"What's wrong?" Castiel tilted his head, not understanding what scared the hens.
Something tremendously heavy hit him in the back. Castiel never had a chance to turn around. The force just kept pushing him towards the mesh fencing.
"Well, hello there!" the rooster's ominous voice hissed into his ear.
When Castiel finally was trapped between the fence and Alastair, he managed to turn his head around. "Alastair, what do you want?"
"How dare you flirt with my wives?" Alastair's voice was sharper than a razor blade.
"But I wasn't flirting," Castiel protested. He was sliding down the fence with each word until he sat on the ground.
"Do not lie to me, boy!" Alastair hissed. "I will teach you how to behave!"
Alastair jumped on Castiel. His long, sharp claws dug under the duck's wings, into the sensitive sides, cutting his skin. His claws started to pluck the duck's feathers out while the rooster was pecking and biting his neck painfully.
"If you ever come near my wives again, I won't be so lenient," Alastair snarled.
Castiel's deafening screaming and quacking instantly got Dean's attention.
"Cas!" he yelled at the horrible sight and jumped out of the basin to help his friend. But before he reached the fighters, someone else got there first. Alastair was caught by the farm owner.
"Grandma, I think we should take him away from the ducks. They apparently don't like each other," the woman said.
"Yes, Emmy. I was thinking the same. Charles was saying that he wanted a rooster, so why don't we give it to him?" The old woman sat back in her chair.
Meanwhile Dean reached Castiel. "Hey, Cas! Look at me!" Dean touched his friend with his wing.
Castiel was utterly disheveled. His feathers were missing in some places, and tangled in others. There were blood traces on his chest and sides. He looked at Dean with blurry eyes and whimpered.
"It's ok Cas, it's ok. Come here." Dean sat beside him and wrapped his wing around his beaten friend. "He won't bother us anymore. Did you hear what they said? The son of a bitch is leaving this yard," Dean comforted the smaller duck.
"I hope he never returns," Castiel sniffed and snuggled closer to Dean.
"He won't," the black duck assured him and rested his head on Castiel's back.