Castiel had filled Sam in on the broad strokes of the plan, the pies, the song. Sam was almost beside himself with giddiness, nearly unable to contain his excitement and surprise. He never thought Cas capable of grand romantic gestures, or even small ones. He couldn't hazard a guess as to what his brother's reaction might be. This was deep, DEEP into chick flick territory. What he did know was that Dean was deeply regretful for not going full chick-flick before, for hurting Cas by acting uncomfortable. He dared to hope that this would all go according to plan.
Castiel had insisted on doing all the work himself. He carried in all the pies and arranged them. He seemed to have a method that was unspoken, known only to him. He'd set a pie down, adjust it slightly, pick it up again and turn it. He set pies on every fourth step of the stairs, then stood at the base and looked up, chin in hand. He mumbled something to himself in his gravelly voice and then rearranged them, adding pies so they were on every third step. He strategically placed pies in the hall, and one right in front of Sam's bedroom. Sam had watched the whole affair from the corner, biting his lip, trying not to lapse into a fit of giggling. He watched Castiel hold the last pie in his hands, almost cradling it. He shifted from one foot to the other nervously, seeming ready to start down the hall only to stop himself, fighting waves of hesitation and impulsion. Sam slowly walked over to his friend, carefully took the pie from him and gently put it down on the table.
"What's this one, Cas?" he asked.
"It is apple," Castiel replied simply.
"Dean's favorite."
"Indeed."
Sam turned and wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders in a light, reassuring side hug.
"Cas, I think you might be some sort of romantic idiot savant," said Sam, squeezing Castiel.
"I had help," admitted Castiel in a low, nervous voice.
"Yeah?" said Sam with mild surprise. "From whom?"
"Her name is Charlene and she explained to me that I am not Dean's rolling wheels, and for that I will be forever grateful."
"Cas!" exclaimed Sam, releasing and turning toward the angel. "Did you make a…" he paused. "Friend?"
"Yes, I believe I did, Sam," Castiel nodded affirmatively. "She said that when all is done that the three of us should join her for dinner and a…" Castiel raised his fingers and made air quotes, "John Cusack movie marathon."
"That sounds real nice, Cas," said Sam with an easy smile and a nod. "It's a date."
Castiel took a deep breath, picked up the final pie, and turned toward the younger Winchester. "You should hide now, Sam," said the angel gruffly, and with that he vanished in a flutter of feathers and crackle of electricity.
"Shit," said Sam, suddenly frozen. Where do I go? He ducked low and headed toward the other end of the room and backed behind a bookshelf that served as a divider between the kitchen area and the main living area. It wasn't long before he heard the sound of his bedroom door open. He peered through the gap between a row of books and the shelf above. It wasn't long before he saw his brother jog out of the hall, two pies in hand, and stop dead in his tracks. His eyes were wide as they gazed around the room, blinking every time he spotted a new pie. He set one of the pies down on the table and walked toward the stairs, eyes following the pies upward. Sam crammed his fist in his mouth in an effort to stifle his glee. Suddenly, he saw Dean charge up the stairs and blow through the door at the top.
A part of Sam knew he shouldn't spy on his brother, lest he ruin Cas' moment, but he couldn't help himself. So many things about this were unprecedented. He shot out from behind the bookshelf and ran full bore down the hall to the ladder that led to the hatch on the roof. He climbed outside and quietly crept on hands and knees toward the edge that overlooked where Castiel had parked the Impala. Once there he laid down on his stomach, resting his chin on his forearms.
He could see Cas standing in front of the Impala, door open. Slowly, Cas took off his coat, jacket, and tie, and Sam could see him roll up his sleeves. He couldn't see his brother yet, who had to have been almost directly below him, but he could see Cas' blue eyes staring intently in a way he'd only ever seen directed at Dean. Cas made a motion with his hand, and suddenly the air lit up with thousands of twinkling lights, like blue LEDs that seemed to have a mind of their own. The beauty of the lights entranced Sam, but then he was snapped back to reality as the Impala roared to life and the stereo kicked on.
At first, Sam didn't understand what he was hearing. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes, and then he realized what was happening. Cas was singing. He was singing! This was beyond Lloyd Dobler. He wasn't holding a boombox. He WAS the boombox.
I am not your rolling wheels,
I am the highway,
I am not your carpet ride,
I am the sky.
It was all Sam could do not to stand and clap. As the song progressed, the tiny lights seemed to swarm around Castiel and fill him with light. His voice intensified, vibrating every molecule for what Sam was sure was miles around. He could see his blue eyes burning and, shit, was he dancing? Cas closed his eyes and moved like a rockstar serenading a crowd. His style reminded Sam of David Bowie. It was like watching a creature who came from another world where dancing meant something completely different than it did on Earth. Wait, that's EXACTLY what this is, realized Sam. It was then that he finally saw his brother step out and away from the bunker. Sam couldn't see his face, but he could tell he was shaking.
Suddenly, the light emanating from Castiel became blinding, and in a flash Sam could see two huge, black wings spring out from behind him, swirling with colors. Sam's breath caught in his throat. He rubbed his eyes, not believing the signals they were sending to his brain. Son of a bitch , he thought incredulously, repeating his brother's catchphrase. Dean's a goner for sure . And with that, he saw his brother drop to his knees in awe.
I am not your blowing wind,
I am the lightning,
I am not your autumn moon,
I am the night,
The night.