DCBB - Death Comes for Mr. Winchester - CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER ONE
Dean grumbled under his breath as he struggled to untangle himself from the sheets wrapped tightly around his legs. Fighting with bedding so early in the morning before coffee and bacon had never been his forte. After, honestly, way too many minutes of hazy half-asleep flailing… he growled and flicked his wrist sharply. Power surged through his veins and the (not so innocent) linen vaporized into dust around him.
He surged to his feet and stomped out of the room into the hallway. The house was eerily quiet and it bugged him, but Sam and the Angel Squad ™ were off currently investigating some werewolf activity in a small town in California. When he reached the landing of the spiral staircase, he eyed its twisting metal of vicious doom for a second before shrugging. Fuck it.
In an instant he’d transported himself down into the kitchen. Heh. Godly powers were totally his bitch.
There was a brief second when he materialized where he could have sworn he’d heard the faintest flutter of wings, but when he spread out his senses… no angels were nearby. Dean pursed his lips.
“Huh.”
He took his time concentrating on the fridge, trying to decide if he wanted to actually bother with fixing anything himself or attempt to use his power to pull it from somewhere else. It was still something he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of yet. (Much to Gabriel’s amusement.) The first try had resulted in a fairly disturbing explosion of ground beef across every surface of the kitchen. (It was really better not to ask.) Finally, Dean sighed and reached out to pull open the door of the fridge. The heavy tread of Bobby’s work boots gave him pause.
“Jodi’s just finished up breakfast if you’re hankering for food.”
Dean grinned and whipped around to face the older man standing in the doorway of the cabin.
“Oh, bless her.”
Bobby rolled his eyes and motioned for Dean to follow him. The younger man smirked before flickering out of existence, to reappear inside the kitchen of Bobby’s home. Jodi screeched and flung a spatula at his face, but Dean just cackled and froze its progress in mid-air. The sheriff glared at him before returning to plating up eggs and bacon.
“You keep doing that and one day you’re liable to end up with a bullet lodged in a very uncomfortable place.”
Dean gave her his most winning smile before turning his attention to the table. With very little effort, he made the chairs pull themselves out and the silverware place itself delicately on the marred wood of the surface. There was a deep sigh from Bobby as he entered the room.
“This crap’s never gonna get old for you, is it?”
The younger man shrugged his shoulders as he settled into a chair.
“Nope.”
Bobby grunted as he plopped himself down opposite.
“You don’t think it’s an abuse of power to mess around with furniture and dining utensils?”
Dean snorted.
“Gotta practice somehow, you old coot, and I don’t hear you complaining when I’m helping you clean up the yard.”
The older hunter just shook his head, and the three dug into their meal in relative silence. After devouring the food and planting a smacking kiss on Jodi’s cheek in thanks, Dean meandered out the door and towards the back of the yard. There was a forgotten area of Singer Salvage that housed the skeletons of cars so rusted and degraded they couldn’t really be used for much anymore. Dean had been methodically crushing them to particles over the past month in order to clear up some space.
Jodi had decided that some cleaning and re-organizing was in order, and she had Bobby so domesticated that he’d happily agreed. Dean used every opportunity to tell the man how whipped he was, but in truth… it was really nice to see the guy so happy and content.
When he reached the section that had been cleaned up the previous day, Dean settled into a wide stance and dug his toes into the ground. The power from the earth that surrounded him pulsed up through his legs and he grinned. Slowly and methodically he pulled one old wreckage after the other before him, and crunched, squished and compressed them until there was nothing left but particles dancing in the sunlight.
After about an hour, there was a flutter of wings and a displacement of air before the warmth of another body settled against his back. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.
“Hey, Cas. Anything interesting on the west coast?”
The angel grunted a non-committal noise before nuzzling his nose behind Dean’s ear and kissing at the sun-warmed skin of his neck.
“Nothing pressing. The matter does not seem to require outside involvement.”
Dean hummed under his breath and relaxed back into the angel, allowing Cas to hold his full weight as he continued to concentrate on destroying rusted metal and cracked leather. For his part, Castiel just carried on kissing along Dean’s neck and wrapped his arms tightly around his middle. Dean tilted his head to allow better access, but didn’t break his focus from the task at hand.
Since their original bout of sexy times, Dean had discovered two fundamental truths about his nerdy accountant angel. First… de-virginizing Cas had made the sexy bastard horny as hell all…the… time. Not that Dean minded that very much. And second… Cas really, really liked to be in charge of their physical relationship. And Dean minded that even less.
A chorus of wings and a couple very put-upon sighs interrupted the peaceful moment before it could stray into anything a little more risqué. Gabriel’s voice was a high-pitched falsetto that sent spikes of annoyance straight down to Dean’s toes.
“Can Mommy and Daddy please keep it G rated outside of boudoir? My sensitive capabilities cannot handle such a display.”
Cas gave a disgruntled gust of breath against Dean’s neck before taking a step back. He moved to stand by his brother angels, who only smirked at him in response. Balthazar cleared his throat softly before he begun to pick at his fingernails in what he most likely presumed was elegant indifference.
“Shall we report our findings, mon Capitan?”
Dean waved a dismissive hand in their general direction.
“Nah. Cas said no big … so … no big.”
Balthazar snorted once before disappearing in a flurry of disdain. Gabriel remained a minute more to cackle at his brother’s exit, before patting Castiel on the shoulder and buggering off to parts unknown. Dean didn’t pay much mind to where they headed, they always came back around when he needed them, and he knew they were keeping out of trouble for the most part. (As long as he ignored Balthazar’s sexual … proclivities, and Gabriel’s tendency to find some poor schmuck to annoy the hell out of when he was bored.)
Good kids… really.
“Where’s Sammy?”
Cas shrugged awkwardly (he was still learning that particular gesture) and made a vague motion towards their cabin.
“He said something about refusing to miss one more episode of a television program to … ‘play angel-sitter for a pair of millennia old man-children who exist purely to make his life a living Hell.’”
Dean smirked.
“I take it you were quoting there.”
Cas grunted in affirmation and Dean’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile.
“Sammy always did take his stories very seriously.”
The angel hummed under his breath before moving forward to press against the length of Dean’s body once again.
“I missed you, Dean.”
The ex-hunter laughed softly, and then gasped when teeth began to delicately nibble on the lobe of his ear.
“You’ve been gone for less than a day, Cas.”
Gentle kitten-licks began to trace the shell of Dean’s ear as a warm hand worked its way beneath his shirt to rest low on his belly.
“I always miss you when I am away, Dean.”
When the angel behind him followed that statement with a grind of his hips against Dean’s ass … he gave up on work for the time being.
“Fuck it. Bedroom. Now.”
Castiel’s grin was nearly blinding and he transported them in an instant.
~*~
Dean drifted back into consciousness to the soft press of lips along his shoulder blades. Cas was still sprawled across his back, a heavy comforting weight, in practically the same position they had dozed off in. Fingertips trailed his naked side and caused the ex-hunter to snort out a giggle. The angel above him responded with a content hum.
“Did you vaporize the sheets again this morning, Dean?”
Drat. Caught.
“Maybe?”
Castiel only huffed in a fond sort of amusement before resting his cheek firmly against the human’s back.
“This is the twelfth set.”
Dean grunted before he burrowed his face further into the pillow. There was a pleasant burn and ache of emptiness in his ass that always left him feeling a bit unsettled. As if Cas had given him part of himself, only to rip it back out again. As much as he enjoyed their rampant sex life… that hollow feeling usually left him a tad morose. (Not that he would ever fucking tell anybody about that, Christ… what an epic fucking chick flick moment that would be. He was not Kate Hudson, dammit.)
“Then tell them to stop holding me ransom.”
The angel didn’t respond, only pulled his body up and away, leaving Dean feeling cold and slightly weightless. When he finally managed to roll himself over onto his back, Cas was returning (gloriously naked) from their en-suite bathroom with a damp cloth in his hands. (The en-suite had been demanded as necessary from their housemates after one too many embarrassing encounters involving exposed junk and unprotected eyes.) Dean smirked when the angel kneeled on the bed, and hooked his legs immediately around Cas’ hips. The one point that his angel never seemed to bend on, was that he would clean Dean up after every single bout of sex. As if it was a mandatory step in the rules of nookie.
Step 1: Open bottom thoroughly. (see addendum: Lube, and lots of it!)
Step 2: Fuck bottom thoroughly.
Step 3: Clean bottom thoroughly.
Dean was pretty sure Cas had a bullet list somewhere. At least. At most there was a PowerPoint presentation that Sammy possibly had a hand in creating, and therefore Dean did. Not. Want. To. Know.
A warm swipe of cloth against a very sensitive spot had Dean sucking in a breath. Cas paused to shift his gaze to the human’s. The furrow of his eyebrows softened and his electric blue eyes warmed almost instantly. In his head Dean was smacking his face against a proverbial wall for describing the angel’s eyes as electric… but low in his belly there was a spreading flutter of fucking feelings that were making a valiant effort to swim the moat around his chest. Dean beat them back with a NOPE of epic defiance.
He loved Cas. He knew he did, and Cas knew it, too. But Dean Winchester was just not meant to be a gooey love bug of affections and emotion. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him. Sammy was the exception. But then … wasn’t Sammy always the exception?
Cas finished and pulled away to toss the dirty rag into the hamper and procure a couple clean pairs of sweatpants from the basket of folded laundry. After pulling a soft gray pair on himself, the angel tugged Dean’s favorite black sweats up onto his legs and pulled the ex-hunter’s feet through. Dean raised his hips off the bed obligingly, and allowed his angel to work the waistband up into place. Only then did Cas settle along Dean’s side and plant a warm kiss over his heart.
“Do you need to finish working in the yard?”
Dean sighed and reached up to fiddle with Cas’ sex hair.
“Yeah. Promised Bobby.”
Cas nodded before rising from the bed once again to go in search of an orange t-shirt. His favorite new color of the week was Mango. (Dean wanted to shoot himself in the face.) With one last full body stretch to appreciate that recently fucked feeling, he hefted himself off the mattress and to his feet. A simple flick of the wrist, and a white tank appeared in his hands. Castiel sighed.
“It would not hurt you to do some things for yourself, Dean.”
The younger man laughed sharply as he tugged on the shirt.
“Cas, I have been doing everything for myself since I was four years old. Allow me some fucking indulgence.”
With those words, he transported himself out of the room and back to his corner of the salvage yard. He didn’t want to start an argument about it, even though he knew instinctively, it was on the horizon. Too many people had been bringing it up, lately. Bobby, Sam, Cas … even Gabriel and Balthazar had made a couple off hand comments about ‘laying low’ or ‘keeping his cool’.
He loved them all, but seriously, fuck that shit. Chuck had told him to his face that Dean was the future of Heaven. Everything known and unknown would be in his hands one day, so damned if he wasn’t going to be prepared. He had to be strong. He had to be perfect. He had to be able to account for any variable. Any unseen threat to the world around him. He had to be ready.
The moment his feet touched down in the soft dirt of the yard, that barely there tinkling of feathers was back… and then his shoulder blades exploded in pain. He hit the ground face first and screamed into the packed earth. It felt like fire was spreading through his bones, trickling heat and horror under his skin with a blinding pressure. He could feel his angels and his family gathering around him, but couldn’t hear them over the roaring in his ears and the screams being ripped from his throat.
He twisted and writhed on the ground, knocked away any hand that tried to touch him. Ignored every voice that was calling his name to the all encompassing agony spreading through his veins. A power build up began to pulse inside of him. Doubling and tripling and quadrupling until he opened his eyes and all he could see was the blinding white light of his own grace. Desperate to relieve the pressure he reached his arm towards where he knew the stack of cars he’d been set to demolish reposed in mountains of rust. He slammed his fingers closed into a fist and a dozen vehicles vaporized into dust.
Opening his fingers and repeating the process again and again, hundreds of cars vanished into nothing under the onslaught of his power bleed. Seconds, minutes, hours later the pain and pressure began to fizzle out and with one final explosion of vehicular murder, Dean flopped to the ground, spent. When the white noise in his ears finally died down, all he could hear were his own harsh, panted breaths. The yard was virtually silent around him. It took a couple moments for him to realize that his back felt wet and cold when it had no reason to be.
He finally opened his eyes … and nearly swallowed his tongue. Giant glaciers of ice hovered above him and cast the area in muted blue shadows. It took a second to register before he slowly turned his head to the side and was face to face with … snow. Blankets and blankets of it…as far as he could see.
What. The fuck.
Dean pushed himself gingerly into a seated position and gaped at the landscape around him. He had no idea where the hell he was. The blinding whites and blues of snow and ice that surrounded him damn near looked… picturesque. (He had a fleeting thought about dancing penguins and Hugh Jackman before the cold finally set in.)
“Shit!”
The ex-hunter hopped to his feet and promptly did a three-hundred and sixty degree spin. Where was he? The fucking Arctic Circle? There was nothing to see for miles that wasn’t some version of accumulated frozen water. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and danced from foot to foot awkwardly.
Cold. Cold. Fucking cold.
Reaching with his senses as far as he could manage, he only barely felt the presence of his angels flicking frantically around the globe trying to find him. He sent out the strongest pulse he could muster, and almost instantly, three beings popped into existence directly in front of him.
“DEAN!”
Castiel launched himself at him with desperation. Hands groping, grabbing and grasping at every bit he could reach. Balthazar and Gabriel were hunched over and panting as if they’d just finished Heaven’s longest globe-trekking marathon.
“Bloody hell, you ass! How the fuck did you end up here!?”
Dean shook his head in confusion.
“I dunno. I was in the yard and then … I … wasn‘t.”
Gabriel groaned and stretched his back a little over-zealously.
“No shit, boss. One minute you were atomizing the salvage yard and the next you were gone.”
Dean nodded and tried to rub some warmth into his arms around Cas’ bad-touch flailing. His angel finally stilled enough to firmly clasp Dean’s face between his hands and plant a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Are you alright? Are you injured?”
The ex-hunter shook his head, in so much as he could snagged in the iron fists of his terrified-angel-life-partner.
“I’m good. I’m fine. Didn’t come here on purpose. Was just trying to bleed off a big ass power build up … didn’t expect to wake up on the set of Happy Feet.”
Cas tilted his head, obviously missing the reference, but quickly seemed to realize now might not be the best time to get into pop culture.
“We need to get you home. Sam and Bobby were in great distress.”
“Yeah I be-,”
The next instant he was standing in the middle of their living room and two voices were screaming his name. Castiel barely had time to get out of the way before Sam slammed into him and commenced round two of bad-touch flailing. Dean sighed and reached up to tug on his little brother’s ear.
“M’okay, Sammy. Don’t know what happened… but I’m alright.”
Sam’s laugh was pitched a little high and hysterical.
“Dean, first you were screaming like bloody murder, then you were glowing and pulverizing cars, and then you were just gone. I’m not sure alright covers it.”
The elder brother shrugged his shoulders before shuffling over to collapse onto one of the giant leather couches.
“Yeah, I dunno Sammy. Near as I can explain, it was kinda like a power surge. Just came at me all at once. I’m used to the small increments of power siphoning in, but this was more like being water-boarded with it.”
Castiel was suddenly crowded up into his space on the couch.
“What do you mean power siphoning in? You haven’t told me about this.”
The human blinked his eyes in confusion a couple times at his angel.
“I’m pretty sure I did, Cas.”
Sam shook his head in denial before plopping down on the arm of the couch.
“No, I’m pretty sure you didn’t, Dean. I think we would have remembered a conversation about your power increasing exponentially.”
Dean furrowed his brows in honest bewilderment.
“I told y’all that Chuck had assigned me as his replacement. You were all right there.”
Cas’ head did its famous ‘please explain’ tilt and Dean groaned.
“I’m taking over for God, guys, hellooooo? You‘ve known about this for months.”
Gabriel suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed in Dean’s direction.
“Daddy-o is slowly transferring his power unto you. For when you take over. He’s … well and truly retiring.”
Dean allowed his head to fall back against the cushions of the couch. Finally someone around here was paying attention to the shit that had been spewing out of Dean’s mouth for ages. Every time they questioned him using the grace too frequently, or too garishly. Every time he tried to explain that he needed the practice. What the fuck did they think was going on? Give Gabriel a cookie.
In fact.
With a careless flick of Dean’s wrist, a giant chocolate chip cookie appeared in Gabriel’s hands. The elder angel smirked deviously at him for a second, before he began devouring the confection. Dean himself was stunned stupid for a moment on the fact that it actually worked this time. Go him. He rules.
“How does it make you feel?”
Dean blinked and turned to meet Castiel’s worried gaze.
“Feel?”
Cas nodded. Dean blinked again.
“Summoning a cookie?”
Gabriel snorted around a mouthful of crumbs while Cas did his best impersonation of Sammy bitchface # 12. Sam himself may have possibly face-palmed at Dean’s side, but screw them, he’d just successfully summoned an actual whole cookie… and it was awesome. Maybe he would try pie next. Hmmm.
“The power transfer… how are you … handling it?”
Dean aborted the thoughts of pie (piiiiiiiiieeee…) and pursed his lips with a shrug.
“It’s not so bad. Like I said, it’s been slow, barely noticeable. Today’s bitch slap was a first time deal. I didn’t get any warning. All I know is that I was transporting myself out to the yard and when I landed I thought I heard wings … then there was nothing but pain.”
Gabriel perked up from behind his cookie.
“You thought you heard the sound of wings?”
A strange glace was shared between the archangel and Balthazar that made Dean a little nervous.
“Yeeeeeah … but none of you were around, right?”
Balthazar harrumphed under his breath before taking a step towards the couch.
“Can you build up your power right now? Increase it… but keep it contained?”
The ex-hunter squinted his eyes at the angel before nodding. Balthazar gave a flourish of a hand motion to get on with it, so Dean closed his eyes and focused on pulling power from the world around him and inside him. It built and built in his system until his nerves felt as tight as guitar strings. When he opened his eyes the world was washed in the white glow of his grace. Balthazar and Gabriel were crowded up close to him with wide eyes. The taller angel’s lips were moving, but Dean heard the words more inside his head, than with his ears.
“Can you feel a funny little pull between your shoulder blades? Like something wants to be set free?”
Dean concentrated on picking apart each feeling currently coursing through his body, and there was indeed a strange little tug on his upper back. He nodded at Balthazar, and damned if the angel’s eyes didn’t sort of twinkle with something neighboring on glee.
“Release that pull. Let it do what it wants to do.”
It seemed kind of stupid and simple, but Dean figured… what the hell. So he snipped that tiny tugging sensation… and immediately power burst from his back. It was all focused on his shoulder blades, but this time there was no pain. Only the sensation of something massive and bright surging out from his body. The angels around him all gasped and jumped back, but the humans looked completely confused. Dean blinked and rolled his shoulders. A heavy weight responded to the movement, and a rustling of feathers filled the room. Curious, he glanced over his right shoulder.
“HOLY SHIT!”
When he jerked and spun sideways, the two massive wings he could see spun with him and knocked Castiel right off of the couch. Dean jumped to his feet and glanced over his left shoulder. There were two more massive wings spread out straight from his back. Just as with the other side, the upper most wing was a bright, pearlescent white… while the bottom wing was a shimmering blue-black.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?”
He spun in a quick circle, as if he could get a better look at them, but it only resulted in Balthazar and Gabriel being flicked across the room. Dean yelped and turned back the other way, where the unfortunate Cas was caught broad-sided and flung right over the couch. Curiously, Sam and Bobby were unaffected. The wings just seemed to pass right through them. Dean screeched out a (very manly) noise when some of the feathers came to a halt and appeared to be cutting straight through Sam’s head.
Dean jumped back and twisted, felt the wings spread open wide behind him … just in time to catch Balthazar in the face and send him crashing to the floor.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
Something gently tried to snag one of the bottom wings and the electric shock of sensation sang through him. Dean flung himself sideways, which apparently ripped him out of the hold Cas was attempting to gain on him, and simultaneously sent one of the giant white wings slamming into Gabriel’s gut.
“Dammit, Deano!”
“I’m sorry!”
He spun himself around again. He was feeling dizzy, and out of sorts, and way too fucking claustrophobic at the moment. Not to mention, you know, he apparently had two giant fuck-off sets of wings on his back!
“Dean! Please calm down!”
He turned quickly to face Sam, but the wings moved with him and knocked Cas’ feet right out from under him.
“Cas! I’m sorry!”
When he turned to help Cas, the wings shifted the opposite way and smacked straight back into Balthazar and Gabriel. When he turned to check on them, the wings swept Cas right back to the floor again. A steady thrum of panic was welling in his chest, and for the first time in months, Dean felt like he was falling off an unsteady ledge.
“Dammit!”
“You bloody sod!”
“Dean, please-”
“WOULD YOU STOP MOVING YOU DAMN IDJIT!”
Dean immediately froze, and all four wings dropped dejectedly towards the floor. He was panting harsh breaths through his mouth and could feel his hands shaking with nerves. In response to his mood, the wings were trembling behind him. Soft tinkling of noise as the feathers brushed against each other. He was too unsteady on his feet, so allowed himself to sink to his knees. When he finally glanced up, the three angels were in complete disarray, with hair and clothes askew. Bent over and wide-eyed and … covered in black and white down.
A hysterical giggle erupted out of Dean’s throat before he could stop it. He could only imagine the state he himself must be in. It must have been pretty worrying, because the next second Castiel was crashing to his knees before Dean and gathering him close in his arms. Dean instantly responded by burrowing his face into his lover’s neck and wrapping his own arms tightly around the angel. Cas was making soothing, soft sounds into his hair while Dean tried to get a hold of himself.
“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay. They are just wings. Only wings. They are a part of you. We should have been expecting this, I apologize… I just didn’t think.”
He could feel himself shaking in the angel’s embrace, but couldn’t force his own body to still. Sam was frantically trying to get someone to explain what just happened, and Gabriel was trying to comply, but Dean was tuning out the conversation. Only wincing when he heard his brother screech out the word ‘WINGS!?’ shortly before collapsing back on the couch. The weight on his back shifted just before the room grew darker and Cas gasped softly. When Dean slit his eyes open he could understand why. He had apparently, unconsciously, brought his wings up around them, folding them over and around their kneeling bodies. The room had disappeared behind a wall of feathers. Just he and Cas remained.
Huh. It’s like a wing teepee.
He snorted softly at his own thought before sniffing once and pulling back from Castiel. The angel’s gaze was intense and worried when it locked with Dean’s.
“Are you alright?”
Dean nodded his answer before bringing his hands up to softly tug at his own hair.
“Fuck, Cas. Wings? Seriously?”
Castiel squinted his eyes slightly and pursed his lips in thought.
“With your power manifesting and steadily growing, as you said, I suppose we really should have expected this to happen sooner. The stronger you become… the more heavenly attributes are likely to appear.”
Dean sighed as he allowed his forehead to thunk down onto the angel’s shoulder.
“Please tell me my junk’s not gonna disappear.”
For his part, Cas grunted softly in his usual attempt at a chuckle. A warm hand came to rest at the back of Dean’s neck as the angel placed a gentle kiss to the side of the ex-hunter’s head.
“You are still human. I highly doubt that would happen… but if it did, I would definitely be taking it up with the Father.”
Dean snorted.
“Like my junk where it is, Cas?”
Castiel smiled, lips still pressed into Dean’s skin.
“I very much do.”
The elder Winchester snorted before leaning back and away. He had to concentrate fully on forcing his wings out of their tented position and behind him. The sight he was greeted with was pretty fucking comical. Sam, Bobby, Gabriel and Balthazar were all seated on one couch, staring wide-eyed at them. Well, Sam and Bobby more wide-eyed than the angels, but that was probably because Gabe appeared to be touching them both on the temple with his fingers so the lowly humans could see Dean’s new angelic show-stoppers. Dean heaved a heavy sigh before giving his brother a small smile.
“What do you think, Sammy? Are they my color?”
The younger man blinked a couple times before he seemed to shake himself out of a stupor.
“Jesus, Dean … wings? Really?”
Dean flung out his arms dramatically, and the wings copied the action without his permission.
“I know right? That’s what I said!”
Sam sighed before he leaned back to rub at his temples.
“I’m assuming manifestation of power? A big pulse all at once needed some form of outlet… so … wings.”
Gabriel grinned and scooted closer to Sam on the couch.
“Got it in one. Who’s the smartest Winchester? Who is, precious?”
When the baby-talk started, Sam visibly flinched back and shot the angel the strangest look of consideration that Dean had ever seen cross his little brother’s face. It made him pause and think for a second. It also made him consider the last several weeks. Gabe had been getting progressively clingier with Sam. Following him around and bugging him incessantly. Like a fly on shit.
At first Dean had just figured the shorter angel had enjoyed pissing off the human previously known as Lucifer’s meat suit … but now… if he didn’t know better… Dean would swear it looked an awful lot like pigtail pulling. He smirked.
“Huh.”
Sam’s gaze swiveled to meet his, but Dean only grinned at his questioning look. Let the little brother figure it out for himself. Having an angel after a piece of your tail was definitely an interesting experience. Who was Dean to spoil the fun for Sam? If he could get away with it, he might have cackled maniacally at the thought. Instead, he just swished a dismissive hand in Sam’s direction and slowly maneuvered himself to his feet. Cas had to help him balance a little, what with the massive weight now attached to his shoulders, but they stood up fairly gracefully.
“And what does the almighty Chuck have to say about this power bleed?”
Dean turned to face Bobby. He shrugged his shoulders and the wings copied the motion again. He turned to eye them suspiciously for a second before answering.
“Nothing. I haven’t spoken with him in weeks.”
Balthazar perked up.
“Weeks? I thought you were having regular checkups?”
The elder Winchester nodded.
“We were, but then he said something important had come up that he had to deal with and I haven’t heard from him since.”
Gabriel finished batting his eyelashes at Sam, much to the younger man’s relief, and finally clued back in to the conversation.
“He didn’t say what it was?”
Dean shook his head and Gabe hopped to his feet.
“So he says something big is going on, disappears, and then you have a random power surge that you almost couldn’t handle? That couldn’t be a coincidence.”
Balthazar sighed dramatically before sharing a glance with the arch-angel.
“Permission to storm the castle, sire?”
Dean nodded but the two elder angels were already gone. Castiel was fidgeting in front of him when Dean finally turned his attention back to him. The angel’s gaze kept flicking to Dean’s wings and back, and unless he was mistaken, there was a faint blush of pink across the other man’s cheeks. Huh. Apparently wing kink was a check for his angelic life partner. Saving that bit of information for later. Yup.
“Cas? Am I stuck like this? Or can I get them to go away?”
Castiel blinked at him for a second before nodding.
“Yes. They can be stored away when necessary. I can teach you.”
CHAPTER TWO
Dean grumbled under his breath as he struggled to untangle himself from the sheets wrapped tightly around his legs. Fighting with bedding so early in the morning before coffee and bacon had never been his forte. After, honestly, way too many minutes of hazy half-asleep flailing… he growled and flicked his wrist sharply. Power surged through his veins and the (not so innocent) linen vaporized into dust around him.
He surged to his feet and stomped out of the room into the hallway. The house was eerily quiet and it bugged him, but Sam and the Angel Squad ™ were off currently investigating some werewolf activity in a small town in California. When he reached the landing of the spiral staircase, he eyed its twisting metal of vicious doom for a second before shrugging. Fuck it.
In an instant he’d transported himself down into the kitchen. Heh. Godly powers were totally his bitch.
There was a brief second when he materialized where he could have sworn he’d heard the faintest flutter of wings, but when he spread out his senses… no angels were nearby. Dean pursed his lips.
“Huh.”
He took his time concentrating on the fridge, trying to decide if he wanted to actually bother with fixing anything himself or attempt to use his power to pull it from somewhere else. It was still something he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of yet. (Much to Gabriel’s amusement.) The first try had resulted in a fairly disturbing explosion of ground beef across every surface of the kitchen. (It was really better not to ask.) Finally, Dean sighed and reached out to pull open the door of the fridge. The heavy tread of Bobby’s work boots gave him pause.
“Jodi’s just finished up breakfast if you’re hankering for food.”
Dean grinned and whipped around to face the older man standing in the doorway of the cabin.
“Oh, bless her.”
Bobby rolled his eyes and motioned for Dean to follow him. The younger man smirked before flickering out of existence, to reappear inside the kitchen of Bobby’s home. Jodi screeched and flung a spatula at his face, but Dean just cackled and froze its progress in mid-air. The sheriff glared at him before returning to plating up eggs and bacon.
“You keep doing that and one day you’re liable to end up with a bullet lodged in a very uncomfortable place.”
Dean gave her his most winning smile before turning his attention to the table. With very little effort, he made the chairs pull themselves out and the silverware place itself delicately on the marred wood of the surface. There was a deep sigh from Bobby as he entered the room.
“This crap’s never gonna get old for you, is it?”
The younger man shrugged his shoulders as he settled into a chair.
“Nope.”
Bobby grunted as he plopped himself down opposite.
“You don’t think it’s an abuse of power to mess around with furniture and dining utensils?”
Dean snorted.
“Gotta practice somehow, you old coot, and I don’t hear you complaining when I’m helping you clean up the yard.”
The older hunter just shook his head, and the three dug into their meal in relative silence. After devouring the food and planting a smacking kiss on Jodi’s cheek in thanks, Dean meandered out the door and towards the back of the yard. There was a forgotten area of Singer Salvage that housed the skeletons of cars so rusted and degraded they couldn’t really be used for much anymore. Dean had been methodically crushing them to particles over the past month in order to clear up some space.
Jodi had decided that some cleaning and re-organizing was in order, and she had Bobby so domesticated that he’d happily agreed. Dean used every opportunity to tell the man how whipped he was, but in truth… it was really nice to see the guy so happy and content.
When he reached the section that had been cleaned up the previous day, Dean settled into a wide stance and dug his toes into the ground. The power from the earth that surrounded him pulsed up through his legs and he grinned. Slowly and methodically he pulled one old wreckage after the other before him, and crunched, squished and compressed them until there was nothing left but particles dancing in the sunlight.
After about an hour, there was a flutter of wings and a displacement of air before the warmth of another body settled against his back. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face.
“Hey, Cas. Anything interesting on the west coast?”
The angel grunted a non-committal noise before nuzzling his nose behind Dean’s ear and kissing at the sun-warmed skin of his neck.
“Nothing pressing. The matter does not seem to require outside involvement.”
Dean hummed under his breath and relaxed back into the angel, allowing Cas to hold his full weight as he continued to concentrate on destroying rusted metal and cracked leather. For his part, Castiel just carried on kissing along Dean’s neck and wrapped his arms tightly around his middle. Dean tilted his head to allow better access, but didn’t break his focus from the task at hand.
Since their original bout of sexy times, Dean had discovered two fundamental truths about his nerdy accountant angel. First… de-virginizing Cas had made the sexy bastard horny as hell all…the… time. Not that Dean minded that very much. And second… Cas really, really liked to be in charge of their physical relationship. And Dean minded that even less.
A chorus of wings and a couple very put-upon sighs interrupted the peaceful moment before it could stray into anything a little more risqué. Gabriel’s voice was a high-pitched falsetto that sent spikes of annoyance straight down to Dean’s toes.
“Can Mommy and Daddy please keep it G rated outside of boudoir? My sensitive capabilities cannot handle such a display.”
Cas gave a disgruntled gust of breath against Dean’s neck before taking a step back. He moved to stand by his brother angels, who only smirked at him in response. Balthazar cleared his throat softly before he begun to pick at his fingernails in what he most likely presumed was elegant indifference.
“Shall we report our findings, mon Capitan?”
Dean waved a dismissive hand in their general direction.
“Nah. Cas said no big … so … no big.”
Balthazar snorted once before disappearing in a flurry of disdain. Gabriel remained a minute more to cackle at his brother’s exit, before patting Castiel on the shoulder and buggering off to parts unknown. Dean didn’t pay much mind to where they headed, they always came back around when he needed them, and he knew they were keeping out of trouble for the most part. (As long as he ignored Balthazar’s sexual … proclivities, and Gabriel’s tendency to find some poor schmuck to annoy the hell out of when he was bored.)
Good kids… really.
“Where’s Sammy?”
Cas shrugged awkwardly (he was still learning that particular gesture) and made a vague motion towards their cabin.
“He said something about refusing to miss one more episode of a television program to … ‘play angel-sitter for a pair of millennia old man-children who exist purely to make his life a living Hell.’”
Dean smirked.
“I take it you were quoting there.”
Cas grunted in affirmation and Dean’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile.
“Sammy always did take his stories very seriously.”
The angel hummed under his breath before moving forward to press against the length of Dean’s body once again.
“I missed you, Dean.”
The ex-hunter laughed softly, and then gasped when teeth began to delicately nibble on the lobe of his ear.
“You’ve been gone for less than a day, Cas.”
Gentle kitten-licks began to trace the shell of Dean’s ear as a warm hand worked its way beneath his shirt to rest low on his belly.
“I always miss you when I am away, Dean.”
When the angel behind him followed that statement with a grind of his hips against Dean’s ass … he gave up on work for the time being.
“Fuck it. Bedroom. Now.”
Castiel’s grin was nearly blinding and he transported them in an instant.
~*~
Dean drifted back into consciousness to the soft press of lips along his shoulder blades. Cas was still sprawled across his back, a heavy comforting weight, in practically the same position they had dozed off in. Fingertips trailed his naked side and caused the ex-hunter to snort out a giggle. The angel above him responded with a content hum.
“Did you vaporize the sheets again this morning, Dean?”
Drat. Caught.
“Maybe?”
Castiel only huffed in a fond sort of amusement before resting his cheek firmly against the human’s back.
“This is the twelfth set.”
Dean grunted before he burrowed his face further into the pillow. There was a pleasant burn and ache of emptiness in his ass that always left him feeling a bit unsettled. As if Cas had given him part of himself, only to rip it back out again. As much as he enjoyed their rampant sex life… that hollow feeling usually left him a tad morose. (Not that he would ever fucking tell anybody about that, Christ… what an epic fucking chick flick moment that would be. He was not Kate Hudson, dammit.)
“Then tell them to stop holding me ransom.”
The angel didn’t respond, only pulled his body up and away, leaving Dean feeling cold and slightly weightless. When he finally managed to roll himself over onto his back, Cas was returning (gloriously naked) from their en-suite bathroom with a damp cloth in his hands. (The en-suite had been demanded as necessary from their housemates after one too many embarrassing encounters involving exposed junk and unprotected eyes.) Dean smirked when the angel kneeled on the bed, and hooked his legs immediately around Cas’ hips. The one point that his angel never seemed to bend on, was that he would clean Dean up after every single bout of sex. As if it was a mandatory step in the rules of nookie.
Step 1: Open bottom thoroughly. (see addendum: Lube, and lots of it!)
Step 2: Fuck bottom thoroughly.
Step 3: Clean bottom thoroughly.
Dean was pretty sure Cas had a bullet list somewhere. At least. At most there was a PowerPoint presentation that Sammy possibly had a hand in creating, and therefore Dean did. Not. Want. To. Know.
A warm swipe of cloth against a very sensitive spot had Dean sucking in a breath. Cas paused to shift his gaze to the human’s. The furrow of his eyebrows softened and his electric blue eyes warmed almost instantly. In his head Dean was smacking his face against a proverbial wall for describing the angel’s eyes as electric… but low in his belly there was a spreading flutter of fucking feelings that were making a valiant effort to swim the moat around his chest. Dean beat them back with a NOPE of epic defiance.
He loved Cas. He knew he did, and Cas knew it, too. But Dean Winchester was just not meant to be a gooey love bug of affections and emotion. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him. Sammy was the exception. But then … wasn’t Sammy always the exception?
Cas finished and pulled away to toss the dirty rag into the hamper and procure a couple clean pairs of sweatpants from the basket of folded laundry. After pulling a soft gray pair on himself, the angel tugged Dean’s favorite black sweats up onto his legs and pulled the ex-hunter’s feet through. Dean raised his hips off the bed obligingly, and allowed his angel to work the waistband up into place. Only then did Cas settle along Dean’s side and plant a warm kiss over his heart.
“Do you need to finish working in the yard?”
Dean sighed and reached up to fiddle with Cas’ sex hair.
“Yeah. Promised Bobby.”
Cas nodded before rising from the bed once again to go in search of an orange t-shirt. His favorite new color of the week was Mango. (Dean wanted to shoot himself in the face.) With one last full body stretch to appreciate that recently fucked feeling, he hefted himself off the mattress and to his feet. A simple flick of the wrist, and a white tank appeared in his hands. Castiel sighed.
“It would not hurt you to do some things for yourself, Dean.”
The younger man laughed sharply as he tugged on the shirt.
“Cas, I have been doing everything for myself since I was four years old. Allow me some fucking indulgence.”
With those words, he transported himself out of the room and back to his corner of the salvage yard. He didn’t want to start an argument about it, even though he knew instinctively, it was on the horizon. Too many people had been bringing it up, lately. Bobby, Sam, Cas … even Gabriel and Balthazar had made a couple off hand comments about ‘laying low’ or ‘keeping his cool’.
He loved them all, but seriously, fuck that shit. Chuck had told him to his face that Dean was the future of Heaven. Everything known and unknown would be in his hands one day, so damned if he wasn’t going to be prepared. He had to be strong. He had to be perfect. He had to be able to account for any variable. Any unseen threat to the world around him. He had to be ready.
The moment his feet touched down in the soft dirt of the yard, that barely there tinkling of feathers was back… and then his shoulder blades exploded in pain. He hit the ground face first and screamed into the packed earth. It felt like fire was spreading through his bones, trickling heat and horror under his skin with a blinding pressure. He could feel his angels and his family gathering around him, but couldn’t hear them over the roaring in his ears and the screams being ripped from his throat.
He twisted and writhed on the ground, knocked away any hand that tried to touch him. Ignored every voice that was calling his name to the all encompassing agony spreading through his veins. A power build up began to pulse inside of him. Doubling and tripling and quadrupling until he opened his eyes and all he could see was the blinding white light of his own grace. Desperate to relieve the pressure he reached his arm towards where he knew the stack of cars he’d been set to demolish reposed in mountains of rust. He slammed his fingers closed into a fist and a dozen vehicles vaporized into dust.
Opening his fingers and repeating the process again and again, hundreds of cars vanished into nothing under the onslaught of his power bleed. Seconds, minutes, hours later the pain and pressure began to fizzle out and with one final explosion of vehicular murder, Dean flopped to the ground, spent. When the white noise in his ears finally died down, all he could hear were his own harsh, panted breaths. The yard was virtually silent around him. It took a couple moments for him to realize that his back felt wet and cold when it had no reason to be.
He finally opened his eyes … and nearly swallowed his tongue. Giant glaciers of ice hovered above him and cast the area in muted blue shadows. It took a second to register before he slowly turned his head to the side and was face to face with … snow. Blankets and blankets of it…as far as he could see.
What. The fuck.
Dean pushed himself gingerly into a seated position and gaped at the landscape around him. He had no idea where the hell he was. The blinding whites and blues of snow and ice that surrounded him damn near looked… picturesque. (He had a fleeting thought about dancing penguins and Hugh Jackman before the cold finally set in.)
“Shit!”
The ex-hunter hopped to his feet and promptly did a three-hundred and sixty degree spin. Where was he? The fucking Arctic Circle? There was nothing to see for miles that wasn’t some version of accumulated frozen water. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and danced from foot to foot awkwardly.
Cold. Cold. Fucking cold.
Reaching with his senses as far as he could manage, he only barely felt the presence of his angels flicking frantically around the globe trying to find him. He sent out the strongest pulse he could muster, and almost instantly, three beings popped into existence directly in front of him.
“DEAN!”
Castiel launched himself at him with desperation. Hands groping, grabbing and grasping at every bit he could reach. Balthazar and Gabriel were hunched over and panting as if they’d just finished Heaven’s longest globe-trekking marathon.
“Bloody hell, you ass! How the fuck did you end up here!?”
Dean shook his head in confusion.
“I dunno. I was in the yard and then … I … wasn‘t.”
Gabriel groaned and stretched his back a little over-zealously.
“No shit, boss. One minute you were atomizing the salvage yard and the next you were gone.”
Dean nodded and tried to rub some warmth into his arms around Cas’ bad-touch flailing. His angel finally stilled enough to firmly clasp Dean’s face between his hands and plant a chaste kiss on his lips.
“Are you alright? Are you injured?”
The ex-hunter shook his head, in so much as he could snagged in the iron fists of his terrified-angel-life-partner.
“I’m good. I’m fine. Didn’t come here on purpose. Was just trying to bleed off a big ass power build up … didn’t expect to wake up on the set of Happy Feet.”
Cas tilted his head, obviously missing the reference, but quickly seemed to realize now might not be the best time to get into pop culture.
“We need to get you home. Sam and Bobby were in great distress.”
“Yeah I be-,”
The next instant he was standing in the middle of their living room and two voices were screaming his name. Castiel barely had time to get out of the way before Sam slammed into him and commenced round two of bad-touch flailing. Dean sighed and reached up to tug on his little brother’s ear.
“M’okay, Sammy. Don’t know what happened… but I’m alright.”
Sam’s laugh was pitched a little high and hysterical.
“Dean, first you were screaming like bloody murder, then you were glowing and pulverizing cars, and then you were just gone. I’m not sure alright covers it.”
The elder brother shrugged his shoulders before shuffling over to collapse onto one of the giant leather couches.
“Yeah, I dunno Sammy. Near as I can explain, it was kinda like a power surge. Just came at me all at once. I’m used to the small increments of power siphoning in, but this was more like being water-boarded with it.”
Castiel was suddenly crowded up into his space on the couch.
“What do you mean power siphoning in? You haven’t told me about this.”
The human blinked his eyes in confusion a couple times at his angel.
“I’m pretty sure I did, Cas.”
Sam shook his head in denial before plopping down on the arm of the couch.
“No, I’m pretty sure you didn’t, Dean. I think we would have remembered a conversation about your power increasing exponentially.”
Dean furrowed his brows in honest bewilderment.
“I told y’all that Chuck had assigned me as his replacement. You were all right there.”
Cas’ head did its famous ‘please explain’ tilt and Dean groaned.
“I’m taking over for God, guys, hellooooo? You‘ve known about this for months.”
Gabriel suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed in Dean’s direction.
“Daddy-o is slowly transferring his power unto you. For when you take over. He’s … well and truly retiring.”
Dean allowed his head to fall back against the cushions of the couch. Finally someone around here was paying attention to the shit that had been spewing out of Dean’s mouth for ages. Every time they questioned him using the grace too frequently, or too garishly. Every time he tried to explain that he needed the practice. What the fuck did they think was going on? Give Gabriel a cookie.
In fact.
With a careless flick of Dean’s wrist, a giant chocolate chip cookie appeared in Gabriel’s hands. The elder angel smirked deviously at him for a second, before he began devouring the confection. Dean himself was stunned stupid for a moment on the fact that it actually worked this time. Go him. He rules.
“How does it make you feel?”
Dean blinked and turned to meet Castiel’s worried gaze.
“Feel?”
Cas nodded. Dean blinked again.
“Summoning a cookie?”
Gabriel snorted around a mouthful of crumbs while Cas did his best impersonation of Sammy bitchface # 12. Sam himself may have possibly face-palmed at Dean’s side, but screw them, he’d just successfully summoned an actual whole cookie… and it was awesome. Maybe he would try pie next. Hmmm.
“The power transfer… how are you … handling it?”
Dean aborted the thoughts of pie (piiiiiiiiieeee…) and pursed his lips with a shrug.
“It’s not so bad. Like I said, it’s been slow, barely noticeable. Today’s bitch slap was a first time deal. I didn’t get any warning. All I know is that I was transporting myself out to the yard and when I landed I thought I heard wings … then there was nothing but pain.”
Gabriel perked up from behind his cookie.
“You thought you heard the sound of wings?”
A strange glace was shared between the archangel and Balthazar that made Dean a little nervous.
“Yeeeeeah … but none of you were around, right?”
Balthazar harrumphed under his breath before taking a step towards the couch.
“Can you build up your power right now? Increase it… but keep it contained?”
The ex-hunter squinted his eyes at the angel before nodding. Balthazar gave a flourish of a hand motion to get on with it, so Dean closed his eyes and focused on pulling power from the world around him and inside him. It built and built in his system until his nerves felt as tight as guitar strings. When he opened his eyes the world was washed in the white glow of his grace. Balthazar and Gabriel were crowded up close to him with wide eyes. The taller angel’s lips were moving, but Dean heard the words more inside his head, than with his ears.
“Can you feel a funny little pull between your shoulder blades? Like something wants to be set free?”
Dean concentrated on picking apart each feeling currently coursing through his body, and there was indeed a strange little tug on his upper back. He nodded at Balthazar, and damned if the angel’s eyes didn’t sort of twinkle with something neighboring on glee.
“Release that pull. Let it do what it wants to do.”
It seemed kind of stupid and simple, but Dean figured… what the hell. So he snipped that tiny tugging sensation… and immediately power burst from his back. It was all focused on his shoulder blades, but this time there was no pain. Only the sensation of something massive and bright surging out from his body. The angels around him all gasped and jumped back, but the humans looked completely confused. Dean blinked and rolled his shoulders. A heavy weight responded to the movement, and a rustling of feathers filled the room. Curious, he glanced over his right shoulder.
“HOLY SHIT!”
When he jerked and spun sideways, the two massive wings he could see spun with him and knocked Castiel right off of the couch. Dean jumped to his feet and glanced over his left shoulder. There were two more massive wings spread out straight from his back. Just as with the other side, the upper most wing was a bright, pearlescent white… while the bottom wing was a shimmering blue-black.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?”
He spun in a quick circle, as if he could get a better look at them, but it only resulted in Balthazar and Gabriel being flicked across the room. Dean yelped and turned back the other way, where the unfortunate Cas was caught broad-sided and flung right over the couch. Curiously, Sam and Bobby were unaffected. The wings just seemed to pass right through them. Dean screeched out a (very manly) noise when some of the feathers came to a halt and appeared to be cutting straight through Sam’s head.
Dean jumped back and twisted, felt the wings spread open wide behind him … just in time to catch Balthazar in the face and send him crashing to the floor.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
Something gently tried to snag one of the bottom wings and the electric shock of sensation sang through him. Dean flung himself sideways, which apparently ripped him out of the hold Cas was attempting to gain on him, and simultaneously sent one of the giant white wings slamming into Gabriel’s gut.
“Dammit, Deano!”
“I’m sorry!”
He spun himself around again. He was feeling dizzy, and out of sorts, and way too fucking claustrophobic at the moment. Not to mention, you know, he apparently had two giant fuck-off sets of wings on his back!
“Dean! Please calm down!”
He turned quickly to face Sam, but the wings moved with him and knocked Cas’ feet right out from under him.
“Cas! I’m sorry!”
When he turned to help Cas, the wings shifted the opposite way and smacked straight back into Balthazar and Gabriel. When he turned to check on them, the wings swept Cas right back to the floor again. A steady thrum of panic was welling in his chest, and for the first time in months, Dean felt like he was falling off an unsteady ledge.
“Dammit!”
“You bloody sod!”
“Dean, please-”
“WOULD YOU STOP MOVING YOU DAMN IDJIT!”
Dean immediately froze, and all four wings dropped dejectedly towards the floor. He was panting harsh breaths through his mouth and could feel his hands shaking with nerves. In response to his mood, the wings were trembling behind him. Soft tinkling of noise as the feathers brushed against each other. He was too unsteady on his feet, so allowed himself to sink to his knees. When he finally glanced up, the three angels were in complete disarray, with hair and clothes askew. Bent over and wide-eyed and … covered in black and white down.
A hysterical giggle erupted out of Dean’s throat before he could stop it. He could only imagine the state he himself must be in. It must have been pretty worrying, because the next second Castiel was crashing to his knees before Dean and gathering him close in his arms. Dean instantly responded by burrowing his face into his lover’s neck and wrapping his own arms tightly around the angel. Cas was making soothing, soft sounds into his hair while Dean tried to get a hold of himself.
“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay. They are just wings. Only wings. They are a part of you. We should have been expecting this, I apologize… I just didn’t think.”
He could feel himself shaking in the angel’s embrace, but couldn’t force his own body to still. Sam was frantically trying to get someone to explain what just happened, and Gabriel was trying to comply, but Dean was tuning out the conversation. Only wincing when he heard his brother screech out the word ‘WINGS!?’ shortly before collapsing back on the couch. The weight on his back shifted just before the room grew darker and Cas gasped softly. When Dean slit his eyes open he could understand why. He had apparently, unconsciously, brought his wings up around them, folding them over and around their kneeling bodies. The room had disappeared behind a wall of feathers. Just he and Cas remained.
Huh. It’s like a wing teepee.
He snorted softly at his own thought before sniffing once and pulling back from Castiel. The angel’s gaze was intense and worried when it locked with Dean’s.
“Are you alright?”
Dean nodded his answer before bringing his hands up to softly tug at his own hair.
“Fuck, Cas. Wings? Seriously?”
Castiel squinted his eyes slightly and pursed his lips in thought.
“With your power manifesting and steadily growing, as you said, I suppose we really should have expected this to happen sooner. The stronger you become… the more heavenly attributes are likely to appear.”
Dean sighed as he allowed his forehead to thunk down onto the angel’s shoulder.
“Please tell me my junk’s not gonna disappear.”
For his part, Cas grunted softly in his usual attempt at a chuckle. A warm hand came to rest at the back of Dean’s neck as the angel placed a gentle kiss to the side of the ex-hunter’s head.
“You are still human. I highly doubt that would happen… but if it did, I would definitely be taking it up with the Father.”
Dean snorted.
“Like my junk where it is, Cas?”
Castiel smiled, lips still pressed into Dean’s skin.
“I very much do.”
The elder Winchester snorted before leaning back and away. He had to concentrate fully on forcing his wings out of their tented position and behind him. The sight he was greeted with was pretty fucking comical. Sam, Bobby, Gabriel and Balthazar were all seated on one couch, staring wide-eyed at them. Well, Sam and Bobby more wide-eyed than the angels, but that was probably because Gabe appeared to be touching them both on the temple with his fingers so the lowly humans could see Dean’s new angelic show-stoppers. Dean heaved a heavy sigh before giving his brother a small smile.
“What do you think, Sammy? Are they my color?”
The younger man blinked a couple times before he seemed to shake himself out of a stupor.
“Jesus, Dean … wings? Really?”
Dean flung out his arms dramatically, and the wings copied the action without his permission.
“I know right? That’s what I said!”
Sam sighed before he leaned back to rub at his temples.
“I’m assuming manifestation of power? A big pulse all at once needed some form of outlet… so … wings.”
Gabriel grinned and scooted closer to Sam on the couch.
“Got it in one. Who’s the smartest Winchester? Who is, precious?”
When the baby-talk started, Sam visibly flinched back and shot the angel the strangest look of consideration that Dean had ever seen cross his little brother’s face. It made him pause and think for a second. It also made him consider the last several weeks. Gabe had been getting progressively clingier with Sam. Following him around and bugging him incessantly. Like a fly on shit.
At first Dean had just figured the shorter angel had enjoyed pissing off the human previously known as Lucifer’s meat suit … but now… if he didn’t know better… Dean would swear it looked an awful lot like pigtail pulling. He smirked.
“Huh.”
Sam’s gaze swiveled to meet his, but Dean only grinned at his questioning look. Let the little brother figure it out for himself. Having an angel after a piece of your tail was definitely an interesting experience. Who was Dean to spoil the fun for Sam? If he could get away with it, he might have cackled maniacally at the thought. Instead, he just swished a dismissive hand in Sam’s direction and slowly maneuvered himself to his feet. Cas had to help him balance a little, what with the massive weight now attached to his shoulders, but they stood up fairly gracefully.
“And what does the almighty Chuck have to say about this power bleed?”
Dean turned to face Bobby. He shrugged his shoulders and the wings copied the motion again. He turned to eye them suspiciously for a second before answering.
“Nothing. I haven’t spoken with him in weeks.”
Balthazar perked up.
“Weeks? I thought you were having regular checkups?”
The elder Winchester nodded.
“We were, but then he said something important had come up that he had to deal with and I haven’t heard from him since.”
Gabriel finished batting his eyelashes at Sam, much to the younger man’s relief, and finally clued back in to the conversation.
“He didn’t say what it was?”
Dean shook his head and Gabe hopped to his feet.
“So he says something big is going on, disappears, and then you have a random power surge that you almost couldn’t handle? That couldn’t be a coincidence.”
Balthazar sighed dramatically before sharing a glance with the arch-angel.
“Permission to storm the castle, sire?”
Dean nodded but the two elder angels were already gone. Castiel was fidgeting in front of him when Dean finally turned his attention back to him. The angel’s gaze kept flicking to Dean’s wings and back, and unless he was mistaken, there was a faint blush of pink across the other man’s cheeks. Huh. Apparently wing kink was a check for his angelic life partner. Saving that bit of information for later. Yup.
“Cas? Am I stuck like this? Or can I get them to go away?”
Castiel blinked at him for a second before nodding.
“Yes. They can be stored away when necessary. I can teach you.”
CHAPTER TWO