Bam. More Destiel. Remember how everyone always said Lucifer bringing on the apocalypse was just him throwing a temper tantrum? Yeah, that's where this idea came from. Not one of my better shots, definitely a bit shoddy. *shrugs*


Untouchable


Angels are, by their very nature, aggressive lovers.

Not to mention possessive.

And Castiel was very, very possessive.

So during the winter months, when Dean came down with a fever and was bedridden at Bobby's, it was natural that the angel wanted to help.

Sam and Bobby were not as willing.

"He's got to fight this fever on his own." Bobby explained to the angel sulking outside the warded bedroom, "That's how we humans build up immunities to disease. If you go in there and just take the fever away, his body won't be able to fight it if he catches it again! What doesn't kill ya' makes ya' stronger!"

Seeing that he was getting nowhere with Bobby, Cas turned to Dean's brother, "Sam. Let me in. I can heal Dean, you know that."

Sam just shook his head, "Sorry Castiel, I'm with Bobby on this one. Dean's strong but," A shrug of those broad shoulders, "This is a good thing. If he gets worse and we can't do anything for him, then we'll let you in."

Silence as those blue eyes stared and then, "Can I at least see him?"

"Nu-uh." Bobby cut in before Sam could say a word, "I know your angel mojo works from a distance. You stay outside that room until Dean gets better, ya' hear?"

And then Castiel did something Sam had never seen him do.

He pouted.

Actually pouted.

The angel flitted down the stairs in a rush of wings and sulked in the kitchen, glaring angrily out the window and refusing to look at anyone. Sam and Bobby ignored him readily enough but it was harder to ignore the hot, presence of anger that was leaking from the angel's body like a heat wave.

After a few hours, Cas approached Sam, apparently calm and collected. At least the heat wave of nasty that had been radiating from him was gone.

"Sam," Castiel said in a flat, level voice, "Please let me heal Dean."

Sam shook his head, not quite holding the angel's gaze, "He's doing fine, Cas. His temperature's still too high to be safe but he's managed to get some water and food down so that's an improvement. As soon as his fever breaks, you can go see him."

Obviously not the answer that Castiel wanted to hear.

One by one, every lightbulb in the room shattered and when Sam whirled around to look, Castiel's expression was thundercloud black, his eyes burning angry lighting blue. Sam saw the angel drawing himself up, shoulders pushing back, fingers clenching into fists at his sides, and somehow knew what was coming.

A burst of desert hot wind tore through the room, sending up a hurricane of loose papers and other small objects. Sam felt as though the room had suddenly become crowded and realized that Castiel had manifested his wings to their fullest extent. Not the puffy, light-feathers that Dean had described to him, these were massive, Sam could feel them. It was like standing in a tiny space with the storm of the century.

Sparks arched from the sockets on the walls, spitting through the air, striking Castiel's wings and making them fizz, momentarily visible. Sam had the impression of a thousand stars compressed into a thousand galaxies all crowded into a super nova going off inside a black hole that was being swallowed by itself. The young Winchester stepped back until he bumped into the wall, pinned there by Cas' angry glare.

"Now, Cas, just calm down…"

"No." Screeching tires, shattering glass, thunder booming, stereo feedback, the earth cracking beneath your feet. It laced Cas' voice, barely there but there enough to make Sam wince and clap his hands over his ears.

And then the angel beat his wings.

When he pulled them back, it was like all the air had been sucked from the room and Sam dropped to his knees, gasping. And then, with a roar, Cas thrust his wings out again, invisible but powerful enough to crack the walls and send out a torrent of air so powerful it blew Sam back against the wall and tipped over the heavy desk piled high with books.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

Castiel's head snapped around and glared at Bobby and the man actually jerked back in surprise. Then, realizing what was really going on, stood his ground and spat out,

"You better get yer act together, mister, or you can forget about seeing Dean at all."

Cas froze. Sam could feel his wings poised, uncertain. And then they beat once more and even Bobby took a few, stumbling steps back,

"You can't stop me. I am an angel of the Lord."

"Wanna bet, ya' idgit!" Bobby shouted over the roaring wind, one hand clinging to the door frame, "You quit thrownin' yer goddamn temper tantrum this instant or you get out and you don't come back!"

Again the angel froze, muscles tense, veins popping in his neck. Those massive wings were shadowed against the ceiling, Sam could almost see their outline. And then thunder rumbled outside and shook the room and Castiel's expression darkened again.

"Stop me." The angel snarled and even Bobby cringed at the ear-splitting noises echoing in the background.

"Castiel!"

Everything stopped.

The wind seemed to halt in mid whirl, the roaring ceased, the wing beats stopped, and everyone turned to look up at the stairs. Dean was leaning over the banister, breathing in a shallow way, a sheen of sweat over his features.

"Cas," The eldest Winchester gasped, "Stop it."

Castiel stared at Dean, fists still clenched at his sides. And then, slowly, he relaxed. His fingers uncurled and his shoulders dropped. The giant presence in the room vanished and Sam let out a sigh of relief.

"Dean." Cas said, tilting his head slightly, "You're sick, you should be in bed."

"You woke me up, shithead." Dean muttered but there was a faint smile on his lips.

"I apologize."

"Apologize to Bobby too. And then clean this mess up."

Castiel hesitated, "But, Dean, you're sick and—."

"And you need to let the human body run its course." Dean ended the mumbled sentence with a hacking cough. Cas took a step forward but Sam beat him to it, wrapping one arm around his brother's shoulders and hoisting him back up the stairs.

"Oh, and Cas," The angel looked up at Dean, wearing an expression that said he hoped the man had changed his mind,

"The thunder and lightning wings…fuckin' sweet."

Castiel felt a burst of pride in his chest at the compliment that was quickly squashed as Sam led Dean out of sight and Bobby stepped into his line of vision.

"Well, go on." The older man waved his hands at Castiel, scowling, "You're gonna replace every single one of those goddamn lightbulbs, fix this mess, and then sit in a corner and think 'bout what you've done!"

Cas at first looked like he wanted to argue until he remembered Dean's own words and stepped back, dropping his head, "Very well."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Bobby snorted, turning to leave the angel to his task, "Throwin' a goddamn celestial temper tantrum in my goddamn house. Damn angels. Damn kids. Damn idjits."

Castiel frowned at Bobby's retreating back as he bent over to straighten the desk his enormous wings had knocked over.

"I am not a child."

The three humans begged to differ.