[Fic] Thursday's Child (8/12)

Author: WynterEyez

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: T

Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Hester, Inias, Dean/Castiel

Beta: None, though that would've been a damn good idea, don't you think?

Spoilers: AU after 'The Man Who Would Be King,' contains spoilers for 'Let It Bleed.'

Disclaimer: I don't own them, obviously.

Warnings: References to past mpreg (I can't believe I'm doing this…)

Summary: Castiel brings a surprise home to Dean. It's gooey. And has tentacles.

Chapter Summary: In which the wrong things are said, Castiel has Feelings, and Dean may be a jealous bitch, but he firmly denies it.

A/N: Apologies for the long wait… I've had to deal with several Real Life issues, including a bout of the flu that just wouldn't go away. This chapter should be using up the last of the cutesy scenes I had planned, so maybe now, finally, I can get somewhere with the plot. I'm shooting for twelve chapters, total, though knowing me, I'll probably go over.

Eight - The Quickest Way to His Heart

Dean wakes up with a monstrous crick in his neck, a Nephil sucking on his ear, and a need to pee which isn't helped by the weight of the angel who'd somehow managed to crawl further into his lap. He wonders how he's going to be able to free himself without Castiel instinctively switching to 'kill' mode.

"Cas?" Dean tries, his voice as soft and non-threatening as he can make it. Danielle peeps with delight and disengages from his ear to roll off his shoulder and land with a plop on Castiel's head. Castiel grumbles something in what Dean assumes is Enochian and snuggles closer to Dean's stomach. Not helping his bladder any…

"C'mon, man, wake up, please? I'm pretty sure pissing on an angel of the Lord is some sort of sin."

Castiel opens his eyes and scrunches his brow. "You make a habit of it," he points out, voice more gravelly than usual with sleep. "Your first conversation with me was designed to make me angry."

Danielle warbles her customary morning greeting as soon as Castiel's eyes open, and she squishes herself against his temple and cheek. Goo slips down Castiel's forehead and pools in Dean's lap. Castiel's clothes are slick with it; Dean's going to have to find him more clothing. And possibly a rain coat.

"Not 'pissing off', Cas, 'pissing on.' I gotta take a leak." The furrows in Castiel's brow deepen. "Pee, Cas."

"Oh. Sorry." Cas grimaces and touches his stomach, right over the tear. He'd lost his hot water bottle sometime during the night, and is clearly feeling the ache. He slowly sits upright, Danielle slithering down his chest and into his lap. Dean huffs in relief as the pressure is relieved. Now that he's no longer in imminent danger of an accident, his curiosity gets the better of him.

"So, did that really happen?" Dean asks.

"The dream walk? Yes." Castiel spies the hot water bottle and tries to bend over to grab it. Judging from the groan that slips between his lips, he's still hurting more than he lets on. Dean bites back the need to ask if Castiel is okay.

"You can go anywhere, right? Like… Disney World?" Dean seems to remember as a child wanting to go Disney World, and being told they'd all go as soon as Sammy was old enough. It had never happened, of course. Since then, it had become a symbol of happy, normal families, something they all did together. Maybe they could draw Sam in, too, and finally visit the Magic Kingdom.

At least in a dream, he wouldn't feel creepy about being a single guy in his thirties hanging around a park full of children.

Or worse: a single guy in his thirties, a hairless Sasquatch, an angel in a creeper trench coat, the world's most adorable Lovecraftian horror, and Bobby hanging around a park full of children.

Castiel frowns. "I can only take us to places where one of us has been. I have never been to Disney World. Have you?"

So much for having an awesome family vacation without any of the crowds. He huffs out a sigh. "No. And I don't think Dani'd be too impressed by all the motel rooms that make up most of my memories." Well, motel rooms, abandoned houses, graveyards, jail cells… Hell… Yeah, there weren't many places in Dean's memories that were suitable for a family vacation. Sam, on the other hand, had spent time in California. Maybe he'd gone to Disneyland? Or at least a beach full of college girls in bikinis?

"I have been to many locations around the world since its creation, including places long lost to time. I may be able to take you somewhere you will enjoy."

"What, you mean, like with dinosaurs?" Dean asks.

"If you'd like. I have visited all eras in which dinosaurs have existed, as well as time periods in which the megafauna thrived." Castiel stares off into space, apparently reliving it. "I've taken several species of dinosaurs as vessels," he says, voice distant.

Dean hadn't been serious, but he had to admit, that was awesome. He vaguely recalled having a couple of plastic dinosaurs as a child, in that barely remembered time before his mom had died, and part of him was excited at the prospect of seeing them in the flesh, so to speak. "We'll be safe, right? They can't eat us?"

"They'll be memories, Dean, not real animals. We will be perfectly fine."

So no, 'You die in your dreams, you die in real live' scenario. That's a relief.

Castiel tilts his head and eyes Dean. "I thought you needed to… take a leak," he says slowly.

Oh. Right. He leaves Castiel to refresh his hot water bottle while he wanders off towards the bathroom, mentally reviewing what needs to be done for the day.

Sam and Bobby won't reach Providence until tonight, so his support services won't be needed until tomorrow. He has to keep an ear out for the phones, in case any hunter needs advice or a phony ID verified, but other than that, his schedule's wide open.

Dean has no idea what to do with himself. The only time he's ever had this much free time was when he'd needed to recover from injury or illness, and then he'd usually been bed-ridden and stuck watching porn or daytime television until he'd recovered. This freedom to do whatever he wants is new to him.

He takes care of business in the bathroom, then heads off to find some clothes for Cas.

Dean hunts around and finds a pair of well-worn jeans that he'd been forced to retire due to a couple of nearly indecent worn spots. He'd kept them in case he'd need to use them to patch another pair of jeans, but figures Cas can use them for now; it's not like the angel's going out in public any time soon. A frayed, faded T-shirt joins the jeans. As for socks, Dean had bought a pack when he'd gone baby shopping for Dani, because he really doesn't want to share socks.

He also pulls out one of Sam's Stanford hoodies, which hasn't fit his brother since he'd gone from gawky law student to mini-Hulk. It's already stained, so Danielle's goo can't do too much damage, and thick enough that it shouldn't soak through too easily.

He returns to Cas and shoves the clothes at him. The angel accepts them with a faintly bemused smile, as if the whole concept of changing clothes daily is a silly human foible that he doesn't understand but indulges anyway. He immediately begins to strip, and Dean rolls his eyes. Modesty being another such concept that the angel just doesn't get.

For once, Castiel's lack of modesty is a good thing; Dean doesn't want to risk the angel's ire again by asking him how he's feeling, so when Cas peels off his shirt, Dean sneaks a look at the wound still livid against the pale flesh of his stomach. It doesn't seem to have healed any since Dean's last look two days ago, but at least it isn't any worse.

He turns away before Cas can strip off his pants, because, really, he's seen more of the angel's junk than he's ever wanted to.

When he turns back, Castiel has managed to pull on the jeans and T-shirt. He seems to be having some trouble with the hoodie, however, and Dean can hear muffled complaints about Sam's giant size and his smell coming from the depths of the hoodie. His struggles have made his shirt ride up, giving Dean a look at his too-visible ribs. Yeah, maybe Cas does look better, but that's something that's going to take a lot longer to fix.

Speaking of which… "Cas, I need to go outside for a few minutes." Castiel tenses. "I have to check if Balthazar kept his word and left food for you. Bet you're looking forward to that, having as much food as you need."

Castiel's face peeks out from the neck hole of the voluminous hoodie. "If Balthazar said he would bring food, then it will be there." The hoodie finally settles over Castiel's slender frame, with the hood flipped up and covering Castiel's face down to his nose. Dean snorts back a laugh. "I do look forward to being satiated; I find being perpetually hungry to be an unpleasant experience." He tries shoving the hood back, but it immediately slips forward again, and Castiel growls.

Castiel finally manages to get the hood to settle around his neck.

"Your brother has a big head," is all Castiel says.

"Yeah," Dean agrees. "Fortunately, it holds a big brain." Dean yanks the hood back over Castiel's eyes before grabbing up an angel sword and heading outside.

Balthazar hadn't said where he was leaving the food, so Dean just wandered over to where they'd trapped him the previous day. Sure enough, there are three waist-high food hampers set just outside the limit of the wards. Dean quickly grabs them and hauls them within the protective barrier, then curiously takes a peek inside each one. He has no idea if Balthazar has any idea what constitutes a good meal for beings who need to eat, and he's a little worried the contents consist entirely of booze and caviar. But it turns out his fears are totally unfounded.

One of them is filled to the brim with fast food bags from various restaurants, with both breakfast and lunch entrees and sides. The second has carefully stacked Styrofoam boxes and whimsically folded foil packages, offerings from better-quality restaurants and diners, Dean assumes. The third hamper is half filled with energy drinks - which Dean would never have thought of, so he has to give Balthazar some credit - and boxes of snacks, including donuts, cakes, cookies… and pie.

Dean wonders if Castiel would even notice the absence of pie. Then he remembers the dreamscape, and vows that he will never, ever eat pie again. Where Castiel can see him.

Balthazar had put a lot of thought and effort into what he'd collected for Castiel. Far more than a mere comrade in arms or casual friend would.

Seriously… just what was their relationship?

"So you're the Righteous Man." It's a woman's voice, from off to his left. Dean whirls around to face a young blond in a suit, standing just beyond the wards. Her face would be pretty, if it hadn't been twisted with derision. "You don't look worth defying Heaven for." There's another angel beside her, a man whose vague smile made him look stoned.

Privately, Dean agrees. But he's not going to let any winged dick know that. Dean plasters a wide, false smile onto his face. "You must be Hester. And Inias, right?" Stoned angel nods and looks pleased at being identified. Hester's scowl deepens.

"I don't understand what Castiel sees in you," Hester continues. "You're no different from any other hairless ape on this planet."

"It's my charming personality," Dean says through clenched teeth. "And possibly my perky nipples."

"Had I been the one to pull you out of Perdition, I would not have fallen so easily to your persuasion."

Dean's irritation flares up, and he opens his mouth, ready to show Hester how 'persuasive' he can be, but Inias smoothly interrupts.

"How are Castiel and the child?" he asks, sounding like he genuinely cares. Hester's lips flatten, but she cocks her head, obviously curious to hear the answer.

"Fine," Dean says automatically. Hester glares, and Inias looks immensely disappointed in having caught him in a lie. Dean sighs. "He's… confused. And in pain, though he won't admit it. He's coping so far, but…" Dean shrugs.

"He should have slain the Nephil at its birth," Hester said. "It would have saved him the pain and humiliation."

Dean bristles. "That's my daughter you're talking about!" He's about to lunge forward, past the safety of the wards, to throttle Hester, but Inias steps between them.

"Be calm, sister…" There's a hint of resignation in the angel's gentle voice, like he knows this is a lost cause, but feels the need to try, anyway. "Had you been the one to free the Righteous Man, the Apocalypse would have went on as planned, and you would not have learned Free Will." Hester opens her mouth to protest, but Inias continues, "And if you had defied Heaven and we found ourselves where we are now, Raphael may not have forced a Nephil upon you, but I have no doubt he would have found an equally horrific punishment for you."

Although Hester's face is still contorted in disgust, she backs down. "So far, there's been no sign of Raphael's men," she says grudgingly. "Which is surprising; he must suspect by now that Castiel is here."

Dean agrees; Raphael would have to be an idiot not to expect Castiel to hare off to hide with his human allies. This should have been the first place he'd looked.

Though if Raphael has figured out by now that Castiel has an alliance with Crowley, it's possible he believes the demon is hiding him. Hell would be the last place anyone would look for an angel. Dean hopes he's wasting his time spying on Crowley.

Still, he supposes he should thank Hester and Inias; however they may feel about their assignment, they're doing it. Inias, especially, seems to actually care about Castiel's well-being.

Fortunately, Dean is spared the awkwardness of trying to make nice with the angels; they'd vanished as abruptly as they'd appeared. Dean shrugs and heads back to the house, hampers in tow.

~oOo~

Castiel can't find the show with the ponies, so he leaves it on a program in which a bunch of ignorant humans confuse angelic intervention with alien visitations. They even offer 'proof' to back this up.

Castiel thinks it's supposed to be a comedy. He finds it humorous.

Danielle sits in his lap, absorbing his Grace with greater hunger than she's exhibited before. The night's dreamwalking had exhausted her, and she's famished. He hopes this won't be a nightly occurrence; he doesn't think his own shredded Grace could handle her increased hunger for long.

As if in answer to his needs, Dean chooses that moment to return, three heavily-laden hampers dragging behind him. "Check it out!" Dean crows. "What a haul! Balthazar really came through."

As the smell hits Castiel's nostrils, his stomach gurgles insistently.

Dean barely has time to move out of the way before Castiel pounces, one hand scooping out wrapped sandwiches from the first hamper, the other grabbing up the three topmost Styrofoam containers from the second. He plops back onto the couch and settles Danielle back in his lap. Dean grabs a bottle of a red liquid that, judging from the label, is made from gators, and sets that in front of him. As Dean pulls out more boxes and arranges them on the coffee table, Castiel exams the thick, juicy steak in the first container he'd opened.

"Holy shit, Cas!" Dean has started peeking into the various boxes he'd laid out. "Some of this stuff would sell for a hundred dollars or more at a restaurant! I think. Not that I've ever seen a hundred dollar meal."

Castiel doesn't care about the value of the food; all that matters is that his body can use it to replenish his Grace and that he can, in turn, provide Danielle with what she needs. For that, any food would do.

"That… is the most beautiful burger I have ever seen," Dean says, awed. Castiel looks up from his steak to see Dean staring lustfully at an enormous burger which, to Castiel, looks like every other burger he's ever seen. "It's like a freaking gourmet burger… and these fries are actual potato wedges…"

Castiel says, "You may have it, if you'd like," and goes back to devouring his meal.

"No, man, I couldn't eat your food. You need it. I'm fine with whatever we have in the fridge."

"Dean, you have been sharing your food with me, even though my needs have been unreasonable. I don't mind returning the favor. Letting you have one burger will not significantly impact my food intake."

The sounds Dean makes while eating it resemble those he makes when he pleasures himself when he thinks no one is around to see. After the dreamwalk's glimpse into Dean's psyche, Castiel is vaguely disturbed.

Some time after Dean finishes his burger, and Castiel gets through a third of the fast food sandwiches, Dean says, "So. Balthazar. He's a good friend to do all this, huh? I mean, it can't be easy, collecting this much food while also trying to run a war."

Dean's tone of voice is odd, and Castiel pauses to study him. "It would only take an angel a matter of moments to gather food. And most likely he had assistance."

"Maybe," Dean says, in that frustrating tone that means he's not really listening to what Castiel has to say. "It's just… someone put a lot of thought into what would actually boost your energy and help you recover fastest, and most angels don't seem to know enough or care enough to do that. You must mean a lot to Balthazar, 'cause from what I've seen of him, he doesn't care that much about anything."

Castiel's eyes narrow. "He has been my friend for longer than humans have walked the Earth. Why are you suspicious of Balthazar's motives?" Castiel asks curiously. Dean's attitude toward Castiel's friend is… odd. Likely, much of it comes from being protective of Danielle, but Castiel still finds Dean's behavior puzzling. "I am a valuable asset. It is in his best interest to keep me alive. Therefore, he has provided food." It's sound tactics.

"If you say so. It's just… the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, y'know?" Dean blurts out, then looks dismayed. Perhaps by the incorrectness of his statement, since it's much quicker to pierce the heart by stabbing between the ribs; slicing through the stomach first would be more painful, and also slower. Castiel prefers a quick, clean kill.

Still… "I'm not a man," Castiel reminds him haughtily.

Dean just rolls his eyes and passes a container of brown mush that looks unappealing but smells divine. "Have some mousse." To Castiel's eyes, it looks more like chocolate than part of an actual moose, and when he tastes it, he's finds he's right.

And, also, it may be the single greatest thing he's ever tasted.

Castiel collects a dollop of the mousse on his finger, then offers it to Danielle. She gums his finger uncertainly, then her eyes widen and she begins to suck at it more fiercely. When he removes his finger from her mouth, she squeaks in protest and grabs it, trying to drag it back. Dean laughs.

"Guess she's already developed a sweet tooth," he grins.

Castiel tilts his head. "She does not yet have any teeth," he points out. "And when they do develop, they will be enamel, like yours, and certainly not 'sweet.'"

Dean opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. "Right," he says finally.

Castiel gets through half the food before he experiences an unfamiliar sensation: he's full. For the first time in his life, Castiel has eaten his fill. It's a satisfying feeling, to no longer have hunger gnawing at his stomach, and his Grace looks a little brighter, a little less frayed, than it had a half hour before. It won't be long before his hunger stirs again, but for now, he can relax and allow Danielle to take as much sustenance from him as she needs.

Eyes heavy, Castiel lays back on the couch. He pulls Danielle up to his chest, where she babbles and touches Castiel's face. "She's very happy," Castiel observes. He doesn't understand why; she has a confused mother who has no idea how to take care of her, and a whole world of beings who would hate and fear her, and kill her on sight if she left the protection of the house. And yet, as long as Castiel is there, she's happy.

"And why shouldn't she be a happy baby?" Dean coos. "Just 'cause she's a freaky little tentacle baby doesn't mean she can't be happy."

Even though Dean has made similar statements about Danielle's awkward appearance - and Castiel himself has said similar things - this time, it cuts Castiel to the core.

"Freaky?" he repeats stiffly. Danielle picks up on Castiel's agitation and starts piping nervously.

"You know. Odd. Bizarre. She's my adorable little tentacle monster." Dean scoops her into his arms. Castiel slowly sits up.

"I see. You still think her ugly. I understand," Castiel says very quietly. "A human baby has two eyes and four limbs, ten fingers and ten toes. Danielle is nothing like a human baby."

"What? Cas, I don't think she's ugly! She's unusual, yeah, but it's not like it's her fault -" And finally Castiel understands. Now he knows why Dean's carelessness is bothering him.

"Dean, you say it is not her fault, that she isn't to blame, as if her appearance is a mistake. That something is wrong, for her to look like this. You seem to have forgotten one very important fact - she takes after me!"

Before Dean can say anything to make the situation worse, Castiel spreads his wings with a snap, scoops Danielle into his arms, and with one mighty flap of his wings, transports himself away from Dean before he gives in to the impulse to smite him.

This time, when Castiel hides, he picks a place that will take Dean much longer to find, one he may not even think to check at all. He sits on the roof of Bobby's house, in the shadow of the chimney and, coincidentally, the angel-proofing symbol that is wrong. Danielle sits in his lap, a little confused by the interruption to her nap, but exhilarated by the flight. She tries to spread her still-weak wings, but they just flop around her. Castiel runs his fingers along each downy limb soothingly.

He leans back against the slope of the roof and watches the birds wheeling around overhead. After a moment, Danielle settles against him and shuts most of her eyes. The rest are focuses skyward, and idly, Castiel wonders if her vision is sharp enough yet to pick out the birds amongst the clouds, or if she's just mimicking him.

"Dean is not careful with words," he says sadly.

But he's always known that. In their first real exchange, Dean had told him that angels and God did not exist, despite the evidence standing before him. It hadn't bothered him before. Once, nothing Dean said could bother him, except for his refusal to help Heaven. Now, though…

Danielle grows bored of bird-watching, and starts looking for something to gum. Since he hadn't thought to bring a pacifier, Castiel reluctantly allows her to latch onto one of his well-chewed feathers.

He shouldn't be this sensitive, he thinks. Castiel knows that humans are meant to find his form terrifying and awe-inspiring, and he'd had no particular feelings about Lovecraft being frightened of him - it was being the basis for some horrific pagan god that mortified Castiel. But… it's somehow important to him that Dean know his true form. When he'd let Dean glimpse it in the dreamscape, he'd thought Dean would finally understand that he was different, and accept him for what he was.

He wants Dean to know all of him, not just the vessel he wears.

And he'd thought… when Dean had seen his true form… that he'd been… pleased. He'd thought he'd sensed awe and wonder, but Castiel has never been good at emotions. Maybe Dean had felt something else entirely. Maybe Dean finds his appearance as hideous as Danielle's.

Maybe Castiel had been expecting too much of Dean. He'd already learned Dean could mistrust him, and betray him. Why wouldn't he let Castiel down this way, as well?

And… why is Castiel so bothered by this, anyway?

Jody had mentioned post-pregnancy hormones and moodiness. Castiel wonders if angels actually are susceptible to such things. He certainly hasn't felt like himself lately.

Danielle spits out his feather and tries to slither off his lap. Castiel tightens his grip on her, not liking the look of the broken shingles and scattered detritus that adorn the rooftop. She may be half angel, but her other half is human, and her skin is still new and soft and vulnerable to injuries, and his healing abilities are currently nonexistent. She whimpers in protest of his treatment and begins fussing in his lap.

She projects images at him, and expresses a desire for her octopus, a pacifier, a bath, Dean… He can sense that her crankiness comes from exhaustion, but she's picking up on his emotions, and is too wired to nap.

Lesson learned: A bored baby is a fussy baby. Next time he flies off to hide and brings Danielle, he'll have to remember to bring something to keep her occupied.

Fortunately, sleep finally wins her over, and she finally relaxes in Castiel's lap, a limp bundle of sprawled tentacles and askew wings. He rests a hand on her back, between two closed, bulbous eyes. He closes his own, and waits.

After about an hour, he finally hears the clatter of the ladder against the eaves, and the swearing that gets steadily louder as Dean makes his way up to the roof. When Dean's head appears, he breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God, you are up here. I was starting to think you'd gone invisible or something and I missed you."

"I don't have the strength to maintain invisibility," Castiel says tonelessly. "A short flight is the most I can manage right now."

Danielle opens a few eyes and spares Dean a weary sort of warble before going back to her nap. Dean gives her an affectionate smile before turning towards Castiel, his face abruptly grave.

"I'm a dick," Dean begins.

"Yes," Castiel says, with feeling.

"This is how it's going to be between us from now on, isn't it?" Dean sighs and leans back. "I'm going to say something that comes out wrong, and you're going to run away, or get all angry and smiteful."

"That is how things usually end up between us," Castiel agrees. "You do tend to be unreasonable."

"You're not going to make it easy to apologize, are you?" Dean sounds exasperated.

"Is that what this is?" Castiel asks, tilting his head. "You may proceed."

"I sort of… forget that you're not human. I mean… I know you're not; you fly, you kill demons with your bare hands and mojo, and punching you is like punching a concrete wall - only the wall's more yielding. But you look like a man, and humans tend to judge things based on appearances."

"I tried to show you what I looked like," Castiel says. "What I showed you in your dream was a shadow of what I truly am, but it would have been enough to prove beyond all doubt that I am not human."

"Yeah, I know… but when I try to remember what I saw, it's like my brain refuses to cooperate, and I find myself thinking I didn't see what I thought I saw, that it was all just a dream." He smiles crookedly. "Which it was, yeah, but… well, you know what I mean."

Castiel doesn't, but he lets it slide.

"Did you find my form… repulsive?" He doesn't want to ask, but he needs to know.

"No, man… Cas, you're beautiful!" From the way he flushes, Castiel knows he hadn't meant to say that. But he means it. "I mean," he adds hastily, "you're pretty impressive. Much better looking than how Lovecraft described you. And one day, Dani will be, too. All babies start off looking a little odd, right?"

"If you say so," Castiel says doubtfully. He doesn't think her appearance will change very much; she'll grow larger, certainly, and maybe one day her Grace will shine through, but she'll always be a gelatinous mass of eyeballs and tentacles.

They sit in silence for a while, until Dean finally has to break it. Humans, Castiel has noted, aren't comfortable with long silences while in another's company.

"How can you even sit near that?" Dean asks, gesturing at the anti-angel sigil. While it is making the hairs on his vessel's arm stand on end, it's not uncomfortable.

Castiel shrugs. "It's incorrect."

Dean studies it, frowning. "Sam painted this one. I don't see what's wrong, though."

Castiel points to a zig-zagging line coming off one side of the circle. "This should be reversed," he says, absently tracing the correct shape against the brick. "It was the only error," he adds consolingly.

"Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you not want us to know how to repel angels? We did it to keep you out."

Castiel's hand drops to his side. "There are some angels that need to be repelled. I would not want you harmed or killed because I withheld that information for selfish reasons."

"Anyway, we should probably head inside. Jody could arrive at any time, and if she comes while we're arguing… well, I'm sure she'll yell at me, and she's probably good at it." He flashes a wide grin.

Castiel has to support himself against the chimney to climb to his feet. Danielle chirps irritably at having her nap interrupted again. Her eyes slowly open one bye one. As he walks to the roof's edge, however, she seems to realize what's about to happen, and her tentacles curl around his arm in anticipation.

Castiel spreads his wings and steps off the roof, descending in a slow glide. He holds out Danielle in front of him, and she makes a delighted sound all the way down. He hears Dean climbing down the ladder behind him. "That looks weird when I can't see your wings," Dean says.

He touches down and tightly furls his wings. Dean steps to the ground a moment later, and they head back inside. Danielle is a limp bundle in his arms, already almost asleep again. Castiel is desperate to join her - mood swings are tiring.

Before heading off to the couch, Castiel refreshes his water bottle again. Dean studies him thoughtfully, sipping from a newly-opened beer.

"So," Dean muses, idly running his fingers along the bottleneck. "An octopus, an elk, and a raven. Combination shouldn't work, but I gotta admit, you looked pretty badass." He takes a sip from the bottle.

Remembering a conversation from the previous day, Castiel asks curiously, "Did you approve of my rack?"

Dean chokes on his beer.

~tbc~

Yeah. I had no reason to put Castiel in Sam's hoodie other than the visual amused me.