Chapter Text
They sat in the church until Dean began to fidget.
Truthfully, Castiel felt he could have sat there on the floor of the old church for much longer. It was an incomprehensible weight off his shoulders to finally be past this moment, to know that he would be able to remain on earth not simply because he was physically able, but because the man – his best friend – with whom he had bound himself actually wanted him there.
For a while after the ritual ended, much longer than Castiel had expected to be allowed, they remained where they were: Castiel sitting on the dusty steps, Dean incased within his arms and wings. It was comfortable. Perfect. Similar to the way Gabriel had often identified his relationship with Kali – though they had been romantically involved in a way he and Dean weren’t, so Castiel wasn’t certain that it would feel the same, but it did.
So Castiel made no move to rise from this position, instead turning his attention to the brand on Dean’s shoulder. He hadn’t actively thought through how he would mark Dean, or where. Even with all the time he had to think about it, imagining the opportunity to brand Dean seemed far too hopeful, and in the heat of the moment he had simply grabbed Dean’s shoulder in the same way he often did.
Reaching out with tentative fingers, he lightly traced the contours of the raised skin. Being this close to him, he could sense Dean’s lack of pain at the touch, and when there wasn’t any resistance or discomfort, Castiel continued to press through the brand. Dean’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He ran his thumb over the impression of his palm, his fingertips over the imprint of his knuckles. Dean’s skin rose up with goose bumps at the attention.
Altogether it was an interesting sensation.
He could detect the familiar hum of his grace where it now resided within Dean, curling around and through the blinding light of his soul as if it knew it belonged there. As if it’s solitary purpose was to protect Dean. Which, really wasn’t too far off. That was partially what the handprint represented, after all.
His wings undulated slightly with his focus, causing the barest ripple of light to leak in through his feathers where they were completely encased around Dean. He could see well enough in the dim light, but he could sense Dean’s eyes somewhat straining to focus. Perhaps for the best. Castiel knew Dean well enough to surmise he would not be entirely comfortable with this somewhat intimate moment if he knew just how well Castiel could see him.
Regardless, the reprieve couldn’t last long and, once Dean’s shifting became impossible to ignore, Castiel pulled back as much as he could, finally extracting his wings from where they curled around Dean and flattened then against his back. He sat back to gave Dean a moment to blink away the darkness, stretching his wings out at his sides once more and relishing the freedom to move. The cramped space of his bedroom had been more confining than he originally realized.
He was surprised, though he probably shouldn’t have been, by how easily he had taken to them. Even though he had only had his wings less than a day, they were already a part of him, moving instinctively to his intentions. When he made to stand, they stretched out to balance him. When he reached down to offer Dean a hand, they beat forward to assist in helping Dean to his feet – another task that was significantly easier than it once had been, to the point that Castiel was sure he could probably carry Dean with little effort.
Though he doubted Dean would care for that too much.
“Well, alright. Um,” Dean looked away from Castiel, seemingly focused in the task of locating his shirt, which he grabbed and pulled on hastily. “So, that was, something.” Dean adjusted and then readjusted the cloth, blatantly betraying his nervousness, (had Castiel not already been very much attuned to Dean’s anxiety). Dean picked at his sleeve, preoccupied with where the fabric was covering Castiel’s handprint.
Castiel, far from unfamiliar with Dean’s propensity to become awkward in any kind of emotionally significant situation, didn’t take offense to Dean’s behavior. Truly, he was relieved it had gone so well, all things considered.
“Yes.” He said, earning Dean’s attention. He offered a small smile in return. “It was.”
Dean stared back at him for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away again.
“Ok, so,” Dean continued to prod at the handprint through the shirt, letting that take his focus for a moment. Castiel didn’t mind. “So, there gonna be any long term effects of this, uh,” he looked back and waved his hand between them, indicating Castiel and himself.
“Bond?”
“Yeah.”
Castiel considered this. “Nothing, dramatic.” He said carefully. “I will be more aware of you, though that would have been true regardless. Our connection will just be stronger than normal.” He frowned. “This would be a lot easier if you’d paid attention in school, Dean.”
“Jeeze.” Dean crossed his arms, but Castiel could tell his exasperation was largely feigned. “Lay off, Sam.”
Castiel chose to ignore him. “Also, you will now be able to pray to me directly, though, again, that is because of my angelic status rather than our bond, so it is not limited to you.”
Dean’s face twisted into a mildly incredulous look. “Pray to you? Like, ‘now I lay me down to sleep, hey Cas how’s it going’?”
“Technically, yes. I will be especially tuned to your prayers, but if someone like Sam chose to pray to me, I’d be able to hear him as well. Though, perhaps, not as vividly.”
Dean nodded as if taking in this new information. All things considered, Castiel felt he was adjusting to the knowledge that Castiel was an angel quite well.
“Speaking of,” Dean leaned forward to and straighten a couple feathers that had become bent. Castiel was pretty sure Dean’s adverted attention was deliberate. “Does Sam know?”
“Know?”
“That you’re an angel?”
“Oh.” Castiel considered this. If a human had indeed guessed his true nature, it’s unlikely the angels would do anything about it as long as that person kept it to themselves. He didn’t think Sam knew, but Dean’s brother could be very intuitive when he wanted to be. And Sam, at least, paid attention in school. “He’s never said anything.”
“And you never told him.”
Castiel shook his head.
“Ok,” Dean nodded seemingly to himself. “Ok, good.”
Castiel smiled but didn’t comment.
“So what about those?”
Dean gestured to Castiel’s wings, which fluttered and arched under the attention. He really needed to get a better hand at controlling their unconscious reactions. He was certain they would give Gabriel something to tease him for. It didn’t help that they practically preened whenever Dean acknowledged them with his eyes or touch.
“What about them?”
Dean chuckled. “All due respect, Cas, those things are pretty sweet but they aren’t exactly inconspicuous. I thought once we, y’know, bonded,” Dean said a little awkwardly, “that they’d, I dunno, hide themselves or something?”
Castiel rolled his shoulders, focusing his intent in the same way he had done before when manipulating the lock on his bedroom door. By the time the movement was finished, his wings had faded from this plane entirely.
Dean jumped back in surprise.
“The hell?” Dean moved forward to circle around Castiel, no doubt inspecting his back to see if he could detect any evidence that the wings had been there. Castiel knew he would find none.
“Where’d they go?” He asked, pressing his palm against the flat, unmarred skin of Castiel’s back.
“My wings are still there, Dean. They are simply residing in another plane. That way they will not be spatially confined and no one, besides other angels, will be able to perceive them.” Castiel glanced over his shoulder and saw the same faint hinting of wings that looked so similar, if not much smaller, that the ones he had grown up watching curl around Gabriel’s shoulders.
The wings weren’t so much visual as humans might understand it. They didn’t impede Castiel’s vision in any way. Even though Dean stood behind the shadow of his wings Castiel could still see his face as clearly as if he had been standing directly in front of him.
Dean hummed in acknowledgement, though Castiel doubted he fully understood. It was difficult to explain such a thing to a human, with their limited senses. Instead, Dean continued to poke and prod at the skin of Castiel’s back, as if certain he’d find evidence of wings if he searched hard enough.
When Dean flattened his palms against the skin between Castiel’s shoulder blades and tried pushing forward, Castiel twitched.
“Dean.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Dean circled around him, back straight and seemingly ready for business. “Alright, what now?”
“Well,” Castiel tilted his head, hearing the distinct thrum of Gabriel’s congratulations. He’d been singing his encouragement pretty much since Castiel confessed to Dean. “It is lunch time. We could eat?”
Dean stared at him long enough that Castiel started to wonder if he might have said the wrong thing before he threw his back and laughed.
“Dean?”
Despite his confusion, Castiel allowed himself to enjoy the way Dean’s humor made the residual tension bleed from Dean’s shoulders. Warm curls of humor emanated from his soul, enough to overpower the discomfort he’d been sensing up until now.
“Nothing, it’s just,” Dean shrugged, “I just thought we might have to report to the Angel High Council or some shit.”
Castiel squinted at Dean, he was pretty sure his friend was joking.
“There is no high council, Dean, and the angels will already be aware of our bond. We do not need to report to anyone.” He ignored Dean’s eye roll. “Though Gabriel would like to see us, since we’re here. I think he’s making a Sheppard’s pie.”
- - - -
“Oh, man,” Dean leaned back and covered his face with both hands as a rather obvious detail came to mind. “Does this mean Gabriel’s one of the,” Dean stopped himself from saying ‘feathered assholes’ just in time, he’ll need to watch that kind of shit, now, “angels too?”
When Dean looked over at him, Cas was doing that thing where he tilts his head and speaks very slowly - usually because Dean just asked a stupidly obvious question that he’s sure he must have misinterpreted because literally no one could be that thick.
“Yes, Dean. Gabriel is the appointed guardian for Inias and me.”
“Figures.” Dean threw his arms up and decided to postpone the inevitable process of reevaluating every moment of his childhood now that he had this new information. Part of him was sure this whole experience was going to be horribly traumatic. “No human that small could consume that much sugar and survive.”
“Indeed.”
A somewhat awkward silence fell between them after that. Dean wasn’t accustomed to feeling the need to fill their silences, but there was something so inherently different about them now. It was as if he could literally feel the weight of all the things they still had to talk about. It didn’t help that Dean’s mind was still trying to make the connection between this celestial being and his best friend who, oddly enough, looked remarkably similar.
“Well, I guess we should,” Dean jerked his head towards the door, hoping that some of the normalcy might be restored in the light of day.
Speaking of celestial beings, between one blink and the next, Cas was fully dressed again – Dean may or may not have jumped back a little. Another thing he’d have to get used to.
Cas must have sensed Dean’s discomfort – or noticed the jump of surprise that didn’t happen – because he seemed more contrite after that. Without a word, the two made their way towards the doors of the church, Cas falling a step or two behind Dean.
Dean rolled his shoulders, subsequently resisting the urge to rub at the now-permanent hand mark on his shoulder, (and wasn’t that just all kinds of weird). All in all, he felt, surprisingly awesome post angel-bond – physically speaking at least, his mind was still quite determinedly not thinking things. They still had a lot to hash out, and no matter how sure he was about this bond, Cas had still lied to Dean for a long time. Dean had a feeling that, once they did lay everything out in the open, he’d have a hard time not being angry.
“I’m still kind of pissed you know.” Dean said stepping out of the old church and into the sunlight. The world seemed oddly unaffected, even though Dean’s entire life had changed in the span of a few hours. He side-eyed Cas when the angel, (freaking angel), moved to stand next to him. “You lied to me for a long time.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to fight about this.”
Cas sighed, but he looked resigned. “I know.”
“I’m going to be a jerk about it. I’ll definitely say some dumb shit.”
Cas’s lips quirked slightly. “I know.”
“Good.” Dean nodded. No matter how much shit they had to air out eventually, Dean really, really didn’t want to do it now.
Turning to face Cas fully Dean was struck with just how quickly he had gotten used to seeing Cas with wings. He looked so much smaller without them, almost unbalanced. When in reality Cas looked the same as he always had. The sunlight still beat down on his thick mop of perpetual bed hair, his clothes – no longer pajamas, Dean noted, but his dark jeans and the blue sweater Dean bought him on a whim a few months ago when he was driving Sam to look at colleges – were as pressed and wrinkle-free as always, and he still stood far too stiffly for someone who should be comfortable with his surroundings.
Cas had always been a little unique. Maybe this angel thing shouldn’t be such a surprise. He’d have to ask Sam.
“Wait a minute,” Dean glanced down the street he had grown up on and then back at Cas. “If your wings are all MIA how are we getting home?”
Cas, the bastard, literally rolled his eyes. “They are hidden, Dean, not gone.” Cas said. “I can still fly. Whether human eyes can see them or not.”
Dean ignored the hell out of the ‘human eyes’ remark. He didn’t really like the subtle reminder that he and Cas were no longer the same species. This thing was definitely going to give him some kind of a complex. He could just see Cas flitting off to hang out with his new, much cooler angel friends who got Cas in a way Dean was slowly realizing he probably never would. Dean knew Cas would never abandon him – probably – but that didn’t mean Dean wouldn’t lose him in other ways.
Dean squinted his eyes as another thought occurred to him, “you’re not going to be spoiled on those things are you?” He jabbed a finger over Cas’s shoulder at where he assumed his wings were hiding. “I don’t know what I’d tell Baby if you found another method of travel.” Dean carefully avoided how much it’d hurt Dean if Cas abandoned his car. He knew no one appreciated her as much as he did, but Cas seemed more accepting of Dean relationship with the Impala. To find out, now, that it had all been cheap indulgence, would be hard for Dean to take. And he could never tell Baby the truth. She loved Cas.
Cas closed his eyes and shook his head, but there was more humor than exasperation in the movement. “Never, Dean.” He opened his eyes and quirked his lips up at the corners in a rare smile. “I would miss her far too much.”
Dean didn’t fight the bubble of affection that burst in his chest at the words, and the resulting grin was wide enough to hurt.
“Too right.”
- - - -
They did end up stopping by Gabriel’s. Partially because Dean was morbidly curious to know how much had changed between the three of them, now that Dean knew the truth and he and Cas had sealed their ‘best friends forever’ oath or whatever. And partially because they were nearby, (and Dean was starving).
Dean had never really been able to quantify his relationship with Gabriel. The guy – angel, whatever, Jesus – was somewhat enigmatic. Gabriel wasn’t the kind of person who often said what he was thinking, but he let you know in other ways. Dean had a somewhat bumpy childhood, and being able to find refuge in Cas’s house was, sometimes, the only thing that kept him going. Gabriel had never asked many questions, and it was rare that he would actually voice his opinion on the more serious aspects of Dean’s life, but he showed he gave a shit about Dean and Sam in the way his constantly kept his door open for them. In how he would cook them meals and not ask questions and basically allow the brothers into their family dynamic without complaint. Dean wondered, now, how much of a concession Gabriel had to make by allowing two humans into his home. He had always been a full angel, and Dean was certain he must have needed to hide things when the Winchesters were around.
All in all, Dean was grateful for the presence Gabriel had in their lives, and now he had become even more aware of how much Cas’s family had done for him.
But that didn’t mean Gabriel didn’t piss him off.
Gabriel pulled open the door before Dean and Cas had even made it to the stoop.
“Well!” Gabriel grinned, throwing his arms wide. “If it isn’t my dear Cassie bringing his human home to meet the family.”
Dean frowned, trying rectify this small, energetic dude with a fucking angel. “Gabe, you’ve known me for years.”
“Perhaps,” Gabriel reached forward and effortlessly pulled Dean into a one-armed hug. “But now you’re officially part of the family.” He grinned over at Cas, pulling Dean with him where his arm was still around his shoulder. “And here I thought Cassie would never work up the nerve to tell you.”
”Gabriel.” Cas warned.
Dean watched as Gabriel turned to Cas and seemed to really look at him for the first time. His eyes scanned over Cas’s face and shoulders and the area behind him where his wings presumably were hidden. Dean wasn’t sure exactly what Gabriel saw when he looked at Cas, but his eyes softened and his smile slid into something a little less mocking and a little more proud.
Of course, as it was with Gabriel, the quiet moment didn't last long.
“Oh, lighten up, Castiel!” Gabriel squeezed his arm around Dean’s shoulders one more time before pulling him inside. “Let’s go get some lunch and you can tell me all about it.”
And, honestly, if Gabriel hadn’t been a supremely good cook, Dean might have bailed.
He needn’t have worried though. The dynamic between the three of them was remarkably easy. Gabriel stood at the stove, pattering on about Kali and how they’d met and their first bonding. It was remarkably interesting, despite all the awkward innuendos and the moments of too much information, which was really par for the course with Gabriel.
Dean sat at the kitchen island with a plate of Sheppard’s pie and a promise of apple pie later. He knew that once the reality of everything settled in, he’d probably have his own grade-A freak out, but for now, sitting here with Cas next to him and a plate of food in front of him, in the house where he practically grew up, he was home.