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Cas walks through the carnage of what’s left of their living room. A chair is overturned and there is rice and macaroni strewn all over the floor. A strange white liquid is drying into the small black and white area rug. It might be milk. Their large brown leather couch, the one Dean insisted they buy, has a bright green ectoplasm-like blob on the middle cushion. The remote is lying broken on the floor, but the TV is on. It’s playing an old episode of Blue’s Clues.
“Wow! Now that sentence really doesn’t make sense,” Steve on the TV says.
The apartment that he left less than an hour ago is now in massive disarray and eerily silent.
“There are a lot of things that don’t make sense,” Castiel says to no one in particular as he walks over and turns off the TV.
Cas’s powers may have waned a bit with all that’s happened, but he can usually feel supernatural entities. Right now he feels nothing at all, it feels just like it did before he left— and that is even more troubling. Maybe apparating here used all his juice, but Dean prayed to him seconds ago, what else could he do but come running.
Doubting his powers of detection, he gets out his angel blade. It’s been almost a year since he last needed the weapon -- ten months, two weeks and five days to be exact. It feels normal in his hand. It’s his heart and mind that struggle providing a vivid flashback of that damned day and of what happens when Cas lets his guard down. Just like he did today. He grips the blade more tightly as the scene plays out.
Cas left the bunker. He did that, to hide from all those feelings he knew would scare Dean. He was collecting rarer items for spells-- tears of a dragon, leaves from the burning bush. Dean let Cas know that they were off to send some demon back to hell. Told him it was a minor thing, nothing he and Sam couldn’t handle. It was always a minor thing with Dean, Cas should have known better.
What Dean hadn’t told him was that a garden-variety demon had decided to curry favour with Lucifer by offering the Winchesters’ heads on a plate. Literally. He didn’t even reply, distracted by the mechanics of trimming a burning bush without extinguishing the flames or burning himself on the holy fire.
Then Dean’s prayer came through with such force he felt like he was being attacked. Doubled over, it took him a moment to understand what he was hearing.
“Cas, I’m sorry. I love you. Wish I could have been enough for you. Wish we could have been more. Please…”
It was the first prayer Cas had received from Dean in years. Dean had stopped praying -- the messages had been intercepted too many times. But this prayer was clear, apologetic and filled with a longing of all things unresolved. Cas understood it immediately for what it was: the last confession of a dying man.
Following Dean’s invocation, he found the brothers in a derelict bar on the outskirts of town. Dean collapsed on the floor bleeding out, throat nearly slit straight through. The demon vanquished a few steps away, demon blade sticking out of its chest. Sam kneeling at Dean’s side in a pool of crimson that looked deep enough to drown in. Cas was sure he’d been too late. He very nearly was.
“Save him,” Sam pleaded through tears.
Cas held Dean’s nearly lifeless body in his arms and tried to heal him, but Dean was too far gone.
“No, no, no. Not yet… Please no, not yet.” Cas prayed to the family he grown to loathe.
Through sheer force of will and a lot of grace, Cas healed him enough to stop the bleeding, sealed the jugular, but Dean wasn’t out of the woods. He’d used all his grace, and with not enough to bounce them to a hospital. But enough that Dean would survive the drive to hospital.
Recovery wasn’t assured. The medical staff unsure how a nearly bloodless man had survived. Dean lay unconscious for days, and Cas never left Dean’s side. Just held his hand and told him how much he loved him, apologizing for not being there. Apologizing for not being angel enough to save him. Apologizing for not acting on the feeling he knew they both felt. He swore that he’d never again leave Dean’s side.
And he hadn’t not really. Dean’s recovery took a lot of time and they both admitted that they really didn’t want to be on the front line of killing things anymore. It was time to explore their relationship, and each other. Cas kept watch over Dean — keeping him close, keeping him safe. Throwing a dart on a map, they decided on Portland. They found a small apartment in a lovely small community where the neighbors didn’t ask too many questions, but still managed to keep an eye out for each other.
Dean got a job at a local oil and lube place. Cas kept an eye out, and provided lore and expertise to other hunters. They’d just settled into a routine. They should have known that it was too good to last, their time as borrowed as it was.
He quietly curses the powers that be and his father for abandoning them. Curses himself for giving into Dean’s request for mint chocolate chip ice cream and tater tots. He was trying to decide between regular and extra crunchy when he heard the prayer again. Less powerful this time.
Castiel, come home. Now. I need your help.
Panicked, he disapparated from the grocery store, not putting down the ice cream in his hand. He realizes he’s still holding it. He walks into the kitchen. Things are messy in here too. All the bottom cupboard doors are open and the pots are stacked on the floor. The stockpot holds the dried kidney bean Dean refused to try. There are a pair of spoons next to them, and a mashed banana on the counter. Dean hates bananas. They never have bananas. Cas can’t figure what the fuck is going on. He leaves the ice cream on the counter.
“Dean! Are you here?” he braces for silence.
He hears a crash and a loud thump, then a maniacal, child-like, giggle.
“Just a sec! There was an incident in the bathroom, we’re having a quiet momemt reading in the bedroom.” Dean says. He sounds… fine. “Come on Lyra, let’s go say hi to Cas.”
Dean walks into the kitchen, holding a young human with bright blonde hair, and great big smile.
“Daddy!” she says as she reaches arms outstretched toward Cas.
“No, Lyra. That’s Cas. Can you say Cas?”
“Cas!”
Cas pales as he takes in the scene. Dean is ok, he’s ok. Cas takes a deep breath. Dean’s more than ok, he’s holding a child. Fear gives way to relief it ebbs towards anger.
“Cas, whoa, no! Put the angel blade away.” Dean looks frightened, of Cas mostly. Cas looks down at his hand pulls that blade back into himself.
“You’re not hurt?” Cas says in disbelief, afraid to move, afraid of the other shoe dropping. Dean looks at him in confusion but slowly Cas sees the pieces falling into place.
“Oh my god, I prayed to you didn’t I? Fuck, last time I did that I was… shit. You thought…” As it slowly dawns on Dean exactly what he had done.
Cas just nods, he wants to yell and scream but also wants to pull Dean into his arms and never let go. Dean makes the decision for him, he puts Lyra down on the floor and takes a step closer to him.
“Oh angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”
“You never pray.”
“I don’t. I’m sorry. But I was overwhelmed. I needed you and I couldn’t find my phone. Fuck.” They just stare at each other.
“Fuck…” Lyra echoes. They both look at her in surprise. Cas may have forgotten she was there.
“Fuck!” She says again as she picks up a spoon and starts taking scooping up the beans in the stock pot and dumping into the saucepan. “Fuck fuck fuck,” she chants.
Cas just watches the scene as if it’s happening to someone else. But when Dean draws him into a hug. Cas collapses into his arms holding onto Dean, like he never thought he’d see his lover again.
“I thought… you were hurt,” Cas says into Dean’s shoulder. “I thought I was losing you, again.”
“Hey, I’m ok. I’m sorry.” He grabs Cas’s chin and gently kisses him lips. “I’m so sorry, Cas. Lyra’s mom had an emergency, something about a dumpster fire. And my toddler skills are rusty. Lyra here seems to be getting the better of me.”
The toddler swearing and pot clanging has stopped.
“Dean? She seems very quiet right now.”
“Oh that can’t be good.”
Lyra is no longer in the kitchen. And there isn’t the pitter patter of little feet to guide them. Their place isn’t that big. Dean starts in the bathroom and the bedroom, while Cas checks the closets. He’s still reeling from a few moments ago but for now, they have to focus on finding Lyra.
Cas feels something wrap himself around his right leg.
“Daddy!” as a small but surprisingly strong pair of arms wrap around his legs.
“Found her,” Cas shouts. Dean walks into the hallway to find him.
“Think she found you.”
“Daddy!”
Dean laughs.
“Lyra, this is Cas. Daddy will be here to get you soon.”
Lyra raises her arms up to Cas in the universal sign for “pick me up”.
“Daddy up!” She says when Cas makes no moves to get up off the ground. Instead he looks to Dean for guidance.
“Cas, it’s not brain surgery. She wants you to pick her up. She won’t bite.”
“I have held other toddlers, Dean. Some do, indeed, bite.”
Dean chuckles. “Point taken, ok, she hasn’t bitten me yet.”
Lyra is now starting to fuss so Cas picks her up. He doesn’t mind children, but the pre-verbal stage does make him nervous. Still, she seems to like him.
“Daddy! ‘Raff!” As she shows Cas a toy giraffe.
“Lyra, my name is Cas. I am not your father.”
Dean guffaws. “You’re like the anti-Darth Vader. ‘Luke, I am not your father.’”
“Daddy!!!” She says again.
“It may be hopeless, Cas.” He looks to Lyra. “Lyra’s like a baby bird that has imprinted on you.”
Lyra looks up at Dean like he’s finally making sense.
“Wyra — baby birb.” She point to herself. “Cas — Daddy birb.” She moves her small hand to the top of Cas’s shoulder. Then she notices the giraffe she’s still holding.
“‘Raff jump...” as she drops the giraffe onto the floor and tries to wiggle out of Cas’s arms until he finally puts her down.
“Dean, I am not sure I fully understand. I am not a bird. Why does she think I’m her father?“
“Well, you do have wings.” Dean goes for levity. “You sure there aren’t any nephilim of yours floating around.” Cas hates it when he throws things like this out there.
“We both know what the consequences of a nephilim are. And really, apart from the murderous reaper, you’re the only human I’ve been with.”
Cas means it as a statement of fact. But Dean looks ashamed of himself and like he’s trying to find the right thing to say. They are saved by the clatter of something vibrating in a metal pot. It’s loud and jarring.
“What the fuck is that…” Dean leans over to look.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Lyra begins again. They may have to apologize to her parents for the sudden onset of profanity.
“Oh my god, Cas… the rocket... “ The rocket, aka, the new big wide vibrating sex-toy Dean decided they needed. It’s never been used. Cas isn’t really sure he understands the purpose of the thing, and Dean hasn’t had the chance to explain it yet.
“Daddy! ‘Raff go zoooooooooooom,” Lyra grabs the rocket and the giraffe and makes flying motions toward Cas running from the kitchen to the living room.
“Dean, you probably want to get that away from her. I am sure her parents will not approve of her playing with it.”
“To be fair, it looks more like a retro toy than some of the things they brought over for her.”
“Dean!”
“Ok, ok….” He turns his attention to Lyra. “Lyra, honey, can I have the rocket back? It’s not for giraffe.”
“No.” Lyra wraps the rocket into a tight hug.
“Dean, for god’s sake just grab it from her…” And Cas reaches down, plucks the rocket from Lyra, who, predictably, bursts into tears.
“Damn it, Cas. Not this again. I spent 30 minutes before you got here trying to calm her down…” Dean says, as if all of this is somehow Cas’s fault.
Cas will never understand how humans evolved to become so ridiculously complicated. Honestly, he’s at a loss. Truth be told, he’s still shaken by the prayer earlier and all he wants is to clean up this mess and either hold Dean forever or zap himself to that remote fjord in the Alaskan wilderness and wait for the end of the world.
Lyra throws herself onto the floor.
“Daddyyy….” she says between sobs. “Want zooooomy…. Deeeee…. Daddyyyy… ”
“Cas, you’re going to have to do something. Pick her up. Take her to the living room. Give her some whiskey.”
“I hardly think alcoholic drinks are advisable.” Cas picks up Lyra. She’s made herself rigid and hard to hold. On the plus side, she’s no longer screaming, on the other she is trying to kick her way out of his grip. Cas considers whammying her unconscious for a bit. Dean must be able to tell what he’s thinking.
“Cas, no magic shit. I was kidding about the whiskey. ” Dean gently grabs Lyra’s face so she looking at him. “Lyra, look at me. Would you like to watch Moana?”
The question seems to calm her. She shakes her head, then rests it on Cas’s shoulder. Oddly, her hand is rubbing the spot where his wings meet his back and she’s running her hand through those feathers.
“No,” she says with surprising authority.. “Monsters.”
“There are no monsters here, Lyra…” Cas has decided that toddlers are the most frustrating entity he has every come across, why would she want monsters.
Lyra takes a deep breath and yells. “WANT MONSTERS!!!’”
Cas has heard banshees with less lung power. Maybe he’s wrong, maybe she is more demon that she seems. He gently touches, her forehead. Just an loud, incomprehensible tiny human. Great. Dean seems to understand this request.
“Hey baby girl, like Sully and Mike,” Dean asks.
She smiles and nods. “Boo!”
Cas still doesn’t understand.
“Monsters Inc. It’s a kids movie. Ben loved it. We don’t have it. Has your mojo ever pirated movies?”
Cas rolls his eyes.
“Daddy…. Boo!!!!” Lyra wails, another meltdown imminent.
He’s about to say no but he sees the mint chocolate chip on the counter. “I can. Apparently this is my day of thieving. The ice cream is stolen too. Anything else we need, since I’ve turned to a life of petty crime.”
“Free Cocky Boys subscription.”
“Is that for children as well, its name suggests it will set a bad example.”
Dean chuckles. “I’ll show you later. But no, definitely not for children. Here you’ll want to wipe the jello off the couch.” He hands Cas a rag.
“I thought it was ectoplasm.”
Dean shakes his head. “God, I’m sorry for earlier.” He kisses Cas’s cheek. Lyra has now calmed down and she sticks her cheek out too. He kisses her as well.
Cas and Lyra make their way to the couch. He plunks her down on the couch, cleans up the cushions. He picks up the remote and fixes it. Some jobs require mojo, some jobs require jiggling the batteries until they connect. With his grace, he manages to swipe the film.
“Boooooo!”
Lyra seems much happier now. He sits next to Lyra. She stand up, like she doesn’t fully understand something. She looks at Cas’s front, then at the back.
“Daddy birb” she reaches out and runs her hand around the edge of Cas’s wing. It runs a chill down Cas’s spine.
“Can you see my wings, Lyra?”
“Daddy birb,” she nods and says again. Then she sits in his lap. He’s not sure he’s ever held a human child like this. He can smell the baby shampoo in her hair. He can’t help but kiss her head. Eventually, Lyra drifts off to sleep.
“Don’t you two look cozy,” Dean whispers. “I just got a text from her mom. They’ll be here soon. I’ve tidied and packed up her things.”
Cas just nods, extra careful not to wake her. He wants to talk to Dean, but like many times in their lives, this is not the time. Dean sits down next to him, close enough that their thighs are touching.
“Dean, can you see my wings?”
“No, I’ve never really seen them, just shadows. Why?”
“I think Lyra can.”
“I suppose that’s possible. Bobby always said that kids are more sensitive to things. Lucky kid, I’d love to see them.”
“You would? They’re ugly and scarred.”
“Bu they’re also the only part of you’ve I’ve never seen, I don’t really care what they look like. It’s like your true form. I want to know it all.”
Cas nods. “Let me see if I can show you.”
The air crackles around him and the flutter he’s never really been able to quiet. It takes a moment. Then slowly two large silver and black wings emerge from Cas’s back. One wing is wrapped around Lyra keeping her warm, her tiny hand wrapped around a few of the silver feathers. The other rests behind Dean on the couch.
Lyra doesn’t move, as if for her nothing at all has changed. Dean looks stunned. He keeps looking at Lyra, then the wing around her, then to Cas’s face. Cas thinks they’re awful, wishes he’d shown them to Dean back when he was proud of them, instead of the ragged mess that they are.
“I told you, they’re hideous.”
“Don’t you fucking dare. Cas, these are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Can I touch them?”
Cas looks at Dean in disbelief, he should be revolted by their motley appearance but he’s not.
“You want to touch my wings, but they aren’t what the used to be.” Cas flicks up the one behind Dean.
“See, look they are uneven there.” Cas points to a spot where the feathers look bent and ruffled.
Dean reaches to the spot. “Here?” He barely touches the broken bits that Cas just pointed out.
He’s tentative, it’s barely a touch at all. Cas moves the wing towards him but Dean quickly pulls his hand away. Cas looks down and folds it up.
“It’s too much, I’m sorry. I can make them invisible again.”
“No, please don’t. Just, they move. I didn’t expect that. And you, you know, have actual feathers.” Cas hates watching Dean struggle for the right words.
“What did you think they were?”
“Dunno, grace and celestial light?”
“Not far from the truth, but they manifest as feather. They aren’t like bird feathers, really. My grace maintains them, but the scars. I wish you could have seen them 20 years ago.”
“They’re beautiful, Cas.”
Dean’s found his confidence, he walks over to Cas. Motions for him to open up the wing again. He runs his hand from Cas’s shoulder blade to the extended tip. Then he cards his fingers down the wing.
“They are soft, almost like they aren’t there at all. Incredible.” He leans over and kisses Cas on the lips.
Cas runs the tip of the wing down Dean’s back, stopping to at his ass.
“Hey!”
Cas winks. “Once Lyra has gone home, you have a closer look if you’d like.”
“I’d like.”
Dean sits down, playing with the wing now wrapped around him. Running his fingers through feathers. Cas hums, content for the first time today.
“I could never figure out why it feels so warm in our bed.” Dean mutters
“I don’t fully control them. They’re often wrapped protectively around you. I don’t usually fight it. We could research a way for you to always see them.” Silence falls again, Dean smiles and nestles in closer to Cas.
The film is almost done when they hear a quiet knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Dean says.
There is a conversation at the door, Cas isn’t really paying attention. But he hides his wings.
“Cas, I’d like you to meet Lyra’s mom, Chelsea.”
He looks up to find a beautiful women with bright blue hair. There are remnants of stage make-up on her face. She looks tired and like someone keeps throwing new crises at her. He reaches up to shake her hand.
“I’m sorry it took so long. Gollum had to look at rings,” she says, as if that explains everything. “I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”
“She was fine,” Dean says before Cas can step in. “No trouble at all.”
“Thank you again,” she says.
"Happy to help."
“Come on Baby Bird, time to go home.” She says as she picks Lyra up. She opens her eyes.
“Cas birb” she says tiredly.
“Cas isn’t a bird, silly. You’re the only baby bird here.”
“Cas bird” she insists.
Chelsea shrugs. “Ok, kiddo. Let’s go, give Cas and Dean their space back.”
“Bye Dee, Bye Cas.” As she gives the tiniest of waves before falling asleep again on her mom.