Chapter Text
Cas wandered around the bunker trying to find something to do. He had been searching the Internet for something to do, some sort of case that seemed even remotely interesting. He found one about an hour ago. He couldn’t tell the Winchesters, though. It was about four in the morning, and he figured he should let Sam and Dean sleep for as long as they wanted since they rarely got the recommended amount of sleep.
He headed back over to the table and sat down in front of Dean’s laptop. He figured he could watch something on Netflix for a little while, at least until Sam and Dean woke up.
About an hour later, Sam walked into the war room, looking like he was ready to go to the gym.
“What are you doing, Cas?” Sam asked, propping his foot up on a chair and retying his sneakers. “Burning the midnight oil?”
Cas cocked his head to the side. “It’s five in the morning. How could I possibly be ‘burning the midnight oil’?” he asked, actually using air quotes.
Sam shook his head. “It’s just a saying. I’m gonna go head out for a run. I’ll be back in, I don’t know, an hour?”
Cas nodded. “All right. I found a case, but I can wait until you get back and Dean wakes up to tell you about it. I don’t think it will be that difficult to manage and there probably wasn’t much damage yet. It can wait a few more hours.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, pulling out his phone. “That sounds fine.” He plugged his earbuds in and then headed outside for his morning run.
Dean came into the war room about an hour later, carrying a plate of bacon and a large mug filled to the brim with steaming hot coffee. He sat down across from Cas and rested his head on his hands.
Cas looked up and paused the episode he was watching, tilting the screen down a bit. “Is something wrong, Dean?” Cas asked, sliding Dean’s laptop to the side.
Dean shook his head. “Nah. Just didn’t get much sleep.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Did you find a case?”
“Yeah. I was just going to wait for Sam to come back so I could brief the two of you on what I found,” Cas explained.
Dean looked up. “Huh? Where did Sam go?”
Cas furrowed his brow. “A run? He goes on one most mornings.”
Dean shrugged. “Oh. I guess I just don’t pay attention to where he goes.”
Cas looked down at the table and shook his head. He returned to watching his show, although he wasn’t quite sure what he was watching. He had just clicked on something random earlier, and he quickly became enthralled with what he was watching. Dean returned to his breakfast, downing his coffee in large gulps and taking generous bites of his greasy bacon. At some point, Sam came back from his run with an empty bottle of water and a face drenched in sweat. He left to take a shower and change, then reentered the war room with something to eat.
“So,” Sam said, “this case you mentioned. What’s going on with that?”
Cas turned off Dean’s computer and slid it across the table towards Dean. “It looks like a demon case,” Cas explained. “It’s in Junction City, Kansas. Several people reported seeing people with dark eyes, and some even said black. A few people died, I believe, but they’re not sure if it’s connected. Think it’s worth checking out?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. It would be nice to get out of the bunker for a little bit and do something. I’m getting restless sitting here, all cooped up.”
“Sounds good,” Sam said, polishing off the rest of his breakfast and standing up. “Let’s go.”
After cleaning up the table a bit, the three of them headed out to the garage and hopped into Dean’s beloved car, Dean and Sam in the front and Cas sitting in the back. Within a few hours, the three of them arrived at a rundown motel not far from the main part of town where all of the sightings had been. They paid for a room, then made their way to it. Dean collapsed on the bed once he made it into the room, evidently tired from the drive even though it hadn’t been that long.
“So,” Sam said, sitting on the other bed, “should we head out soon, ask some questions?”
Dean nodded into his pillow. “Yeah. Just… I don’t know, let me rest my eyes for a little.”
Sam shook his head and laughed. “Fine, but don’t fall asleep. I want to get started with this soon.”
Dean rolled his eyes, bringing an arm up to rest over his eyes, protecting them from the bright lights shining through the window. Cas thought they looked nice, but he also didn’t have to try to fall asleep on a regular basis so the sun had never really bothered him that much.
A few moments later, Dean sat up. “I can’t sleep. Let’s go.” He stood up and headed to the bathroom with his suit so he could change. Once he was done, Sam did the same so they would be ready to leave.
They arrived at one of the witness’s houses, an elderly woman by the name of Pauline Smith. She let them in and offered the three of them some tea, but they declined.
“So, what did you see, Mrs. Smith?” Dean asked, gently sliding into the seat across from the woman. Sam sat next to him and Cas stood behind them, arms crossed over his chest.
“These gentlemen showed up at my house,” she explained, her voice a bit shaky. “It seemed like they wanted something, but I wouldn’t let them in the house. Their eyes turned black, I think. I must have been hallucinating or something. Right?” She had started rambling a little bit, but Cas wasn’t listening.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Smith,” Sam said politely. “Is that all you know?”
The woman nodded.
“Okay, then,” Sam said. “Thank you for your time. I believe we’ll be heading out now.”
“Of course, agents,” Mrs. Smith said. She led them to the front door and opened it for them. “Have a good day.”
Sam turned and inclined his head. “Of course. You as well.”
“Well, that was a bust,” Dean said as soon as he made it into the car. “Let’s go to some of these other people’s places and see if they have anything better to tell us.”
They asked around at some other homes, trying to find out as much information as they could. Eventually, someone told them that he had seen them heading to the outskirts of town, where there was an abandoned warehouse and a rundown farm.
“I think that’s it,” Sam said. “I think he said it was this way.” Sam pointed to the left. “We probably just have to drive until we find what he was telling us about. Shouldn’t take too long.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.” He turned the car around and headed in the direction Sam had indicated. After about ten minutes, Cas told them to stop. In the distance, there was a warehouse, and if he squinted enough, he could see the old farm.
Dean hopped out of the car and rounded the back to the trunk. He pulled out a large assortment of weapons they could use against the demons and handed them out. He led the way inside the warehouse, slowly peeking around every corner before quietly letting Sam and Cas know they could follow him. They made their way around the warehouse, eventually ending up in the main part of the building. There were several demons standing at the perimeter of the room, and others were pacing back and forth.
“Ah, the Winchesters,” one of them said, stepping towards the two brothers and the angel. “And your little friend. Nice to see you. I’m sure you’ll enjoy my friends and what they’re going to do to you.” He paused and surveyed the rest of the demons. “But on the other hand, maybe not.”
All too quickly, the demons ran forward, attacking them from all angles and directions. Dean flipped around and stabbed one in the chest. As he did that, a demon jumped on his back, dragging him away and tackling him to the ground. Dean tried his best to get the demon off of him, but it put all of its weight on him and wouldn’t let Dean move. The demon dragged a knife over Dean’s cheek and neck, letting the knife dig a shallow cut across Dean’s skin. Dean grimaced and tried to shove the demon away, but his arms were caught under himself.
“Dean!” someone shouted. Cas. His friend’s familiar face appeared over the demon’s shoulder. He brought out his angel blade and stabbed the demon in the back, right in the spine. The demon fell on top of Dean, but Cas kicked it to the side before helping Dean get off the ground. “Come on. I heard a bunch more in other parts of this building.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” They split up, Dean heading in one direction and Cas in the other. He didn’t see Sam, but he assumed his brother was off fighting the demons somewhere. At least he hoped so. There were a lot more demons than he had anticipated, and he had no clue how quickly and easily they were going to get out of it.
“Shit,” Dean said as he stumbled and fell on the ground. He smacked his head on the cold concrete and turned around to see a demon standing over him. He sat up and stuck out his knife, trying to catch the demon in the stomach. His vision was a little blurry, he guessed, because he missed, ending up catching the air right next to the demon’s side. He tried again, this time nicking the demon, but not enough to actually kill it.
“Not so strong, are you?” the demon taunted. “A little injury to the head and all of a sudden you can’t fight.” The demon paced around where Dean was lying on the ground. “It’s such a shame, too. I was looking forward to a good fight.” The demon kneeled down and captured Dean’s knife. He stuck it in Dean’s arm, then his side.
“You son of a bitch,” Dean moaned, holding a hand to his side where the demon had stabbed him. He sat up as fast as he could, making a grab for his knife. Somehow, he grabbed hold of it, using it to stab the demon square in the chest. It collapsed, falling on its back and slamming its head on the ground. “That’s some nice payback,” Dean said. A burst of pain shot through his head, but he ignored it, instead stomping towards a group of demons on the other side of the room. He caught them off guard, thankfully, and he was able to easily kill all of them within a minute. The last one gave him a bit of trouble. Dean had tried to stab the demon in the chest, but the demon fought back, managing to get a few quick hits in before Dean killed it.
Dean fell over after he tripped over one of the fallen demons. He felt a crack in his ankle and through his shin. He clutched at his now-injured leg, letting out a loud stream of curse words.
“Hey, Dean!” Sam called, jogging over to where Dean was sitting on the ground. “Are you okay?”
Dean shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I think I’m having a lot of bad luck today. I just probably broke my leg and the demons kept cutting me when I was trying to kill them.”
Sam frowned. “Same. I don’t think my injuries are too bad, though. Let me go find Cas so he can clean you up. As far as I’m aware, we got all the demons. I think he chased a few into the hallway, but he probably got them by now.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just stay here.”
Sam jogged after Cas. He came back a few moments later with a bruised and battered Cas. He dropped onto the ground by Dean’s side. He reached out a hand and placed it on Dean’s arm. His face scrunched up in concentration, like he was having difficulty healing Dean.
“Cas,” Dean asked, turning his head toward the angel, “are you all right?”
Cas sighed and shook his head a little. “Not really. I think I lost a lot of strength fighting the demons, but I’ll still heal the both of you.”
Dean shook his head, reaching a hand out to grasp Cas’s shoulder. “No,” he said sternly. “Conserve your strength. I’ll heal the old-fashioned way. It’s okay.”
“No,” Cas said. “I’ll be fine.” He continued his process in healing Dean, the look on his face turning worse and worse as more time flew by. Eventually, Dean felt better--no pain in his head, in his leg, or in the many stab wounds scattered all over his body.
“Uh,” Dean started, frowning. He was angry at Cas for ignoring him but still thankful that Cas had healed him. “Thanks.”
Cas gave him a firm nod before turning to Sam. His healing process didn’t take as long as Dean’s, but it still looked like it was taking a heavy toll on Cas. Well, that combined with his injuries. Something strange was happening, and Dean didn’t know what it was.
“Cas?” Dean asked. “What’s that on your back?” As soon as he asked that, two dark, large wings sprouted from Cas’s back, the wings that Dean had only ever seen before as shadows.
Sam took a few steps back. “Whoa. What the hell, man?”
Cas turned his head back so he could get a better look at his wings. “Oh. Those are my wings. I guess I can’t keep the hidden right now.”
“Why’s that?” Sam asked.
“I lost a lot of strength today,” Cas said quietly. “Unfortunately. It takes a lot of my power and concentration to keep my wings from being seen. I’m forced to have them take on a physical manifestation right now.”
Dean frowned. He pushed off the ground and stood up. “Is there any way we can help?”
Cas shook his head. “No. At least… not that I’m aware of.” He looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be able to head home with you two. I’ll have to wait until my strength is back so I can, I don’t know, put my wings away. I’ll just wait here and somehow find my way back to the bunker.”
“No,” Dean said firmly. “We’ll wait here with you. We’re not going to leave without you. Right, Sammy?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Do you know of anything we can try to do or how long it will take for you to get your strength back?”
Cas shook his head. “No.” He started heading toward a door at the left of the room. “I’m gonna go outside for a bit, get some fresh air. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He headed outside, and Dean followed him with his eyes until he couldn’t see the angel anymore.
Dean sighed and dropped his head in his hands.
“Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. I just feel bad that he was healing us and lost a bunch of his power. It just doesn’t seem right or fair or anything like that.”
Sam shrugged. “It was his choice. He wanted to help us, so he did. I get that you care about him a lot, Dean, I really do. I care about him too, but you have to let him do things he wants to do sometimes. Occasionally, that might be helping us when he probably should be taking care of himself. But that’s his choice.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, waving his brother off. “I get that. I guess I was just trying to help him out.”
Sam and Dean sat in silence for a little while, just simply waiting for Cas to come back into the warehouse. After about seven minutes, Dean started to become worried.
“He just said he would be a few minutes, Sam,” Dean explained. “It’s been a lot longer than that. You think we should check outside, just make sure he’s doing all right?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
Dean followed Sam as he headed outside in the same direction that Cas had. Once they got out there, they didn’t see the angel anywhere.
“Maybe he headed around the other side,” Sam suggested. “I’ll go head around there and check.”
Dean nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay here, just in case he comes back.”
Off in the distance, Dean could have sworn he heard a scream that sounded similar to Cas’s. “Sam!” he called, making sure his voice was loud enough that Dean could hear. “Come back!”
Sam hurried back around to meet Dean. “What?”
“I think I heard Cas scream or something,” he said hurriedly. He pointed in the direction he had heard the scream. “Somewhere over there, I think.” Without even waiting for Sam to reply, Dean began to head in the direction he had indicated. He passed the old, rundown farm, but he thought the scream had been too far away for it to have come from the farm.
“Dean,” Sam said. “I heard something else. I think it came from a little further down the road. There are two houses down there. I’ll check one and you can check the other.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah.” He started to jog down the road, trying to make his way toward the first house Sam had indicated as fast as possible. Once he got closer, he could tell that it was probably the one. He stood outside the door and took a deep breath before pushing the front door open.
Cas slowly blinked and took in his surroundings. The last thing he remembered before he woke up was someone--probably a demon--grabbing hold of his wings and knocking him out. He didn’t know where he was, but he hoped he wasn’t too far from the warehouse. He hissed a bit as he felt pain up and down his arms and legs. He tried to look at them, but he found that his neck was too stiff to move that much.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a man said, walking up to Cas, tapping an angel blade against his palm. His eyes turned black and Cas groaned. “Is something the matter? Did we not have fun?”
Cas spit blood at the demon. “No,” he said, voice a little weird from the amount of blood that was in his mouth.
The demon shrugged. “Too bad, because I was having a lot of fun.” He walked around to stand behind Cas. He trailed his hands along Cas’s arms where they were tied together and attached to the ceiling. “And we’re gonna have some more fun,” he whispered, leaning in close to Cas’s ear. “Just wait and see.”
Cas shivered. “No, no. I don’t think so.” He tried to shake out of the demon’s grasp but the demon had too tight of a hold on him. He tipped his head back and screamed, “Let go of me!”
The demon laughed and gripped onto Cas’s right wing. “Nice try, sad excuse for an angel,” he spat. Without warning, he sliced open part of Cas’s wing with the angel blade he had stolen, probably from Cas. He moved on to the other wing, slicing a longer and even deeper cut in that one.
“Let. Go. Of. Me.” Cas gritted his teeth.
The demon cut into Cas’s wings again, this time towards the base of them, where they connected to his back. Cas screamed, louder than he thought he had ever screamed before. Whatever the demon was doing to him, it truly hurt, much more than anything else in Cas’s life.
The cuts kept getting deeper and deeper, and even though Cas couldn’t see it, he could feel the demon ripping his wings to shreds. With each cut, he kept yelling and screaming louder and louder. He only prayed that the Winchesters could somehow hear him and would come to help him. He knew it was only wishful thinking, but it was better than any negativity. He was trying to wipe all the negativity he could from his mind.
He could feel the wings detaching from his back, feathers falling to the ground behind him. The demon sawed through them with little incisions here and there. The angel blade wasn’t big enough to cut the wings off with one cut. Cas kept screaming through it all. The pain was unbearable. He couldn’t tell if he wanted the demon to stop or if he wanted the demon to hurry up and cut his wings off so he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain anymore.
Soon, Cas felt the wings detach from his back and fall on the ground. He gritted his teeth and tried his best not to cry out in pain. His throat was getting sore from all the screaming, and he was pretty sure he was close to losing his voice.
“Now,” the demon said, “that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Cas blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears from his eyes. He didn’t feel like showing the demon how weak he was, even though it had been pretty evident by how often Cas had screamed from the pain of the demon cutting off his wings.
Cas tried to twist around and see what had happened. He could just barely see the cuts through his clothes and in his back where his wings had just been only moments before. A little further back were his wings. The demon must have dragged them over to get them out of the way, though Cas didn’t really care. He just wanted to get out of there, possibly crawl into a hole and die. Maybe just sleep for eternity. He really didn’t have a preference, he just wanted to leave.
Dean ran down to the basement, trying his best to follow the sounds he had heard. Someone was coming up the stairs as he was just starting to walk down. A demon. Dean pulled his knife out and waited at the top of the stairs. As the demon stepped into the doorway, Dean turned and stabbed the demon through the chest, letting it sink in as the demon’s eyes flickered out.
Dean stepped over the demon and ran down the stairs. It didn’t take him long to find Cas. He was in the center of the basement, hands tied together and to the ceiling. Something about him looked different. He didn’t have his wings. Dean only hoped that Cas had regained enough strength to return them to their usual form. It was much easier than thinking about the alternative.
“Cas!” Dean called, jogging over to Cas. He cupped the angel’s cheeks and stared into his bloodshot eyes. “Are you all right? What happened?”
Cas groaned. “Dean, there’s a demon. He could--”
Dean cut him off. “I killed him. Was he the only one?”
Cas slowly nodded.
“Good,” Dean said, more to himself than to Cas. “That’s good. Now, what happened to you? Sam and I could hear your screams back at the warehouse.”
Cas sighed and looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “He… he cut my wings off. Tore them to shreds. It hurt so, so badly.” His voice was raw. “It still hurts.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He was freaking out, but he was trying his best not to show Cas that. He walked around towards Cas’s back and assessed the open wounds. “We’ll get you fixed up once we get back to the bunker. Okay, buddy?”
Cas nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
Dean reached up and cut the ropes from the ceiling. He leaned forward and let Cas fall on him so he wouldn’t fall onto the ground. Dean gently took Cas’s hands in his own and cut the ropes apart. “You’ll be okay,” Dean reassured. “I promise.” He threw one of Cas’s arms over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you back upstairs.”
Together, the two of them hobbled up the stairs, Dean walking slightly ahead and Cas walking slightly behind. The staircase wasn’t wide enough for two grown men to walk together side-by-side, so they made do. Dean led them outside and into the fresh air.
“Do you wanna wait here for a second before heading to the Impala?” Dean asked.
Cas nodded. “Yeah. That would be nice.”
“Or I could ask Sam to drive it over here. I think that would be a lot easier on you, right?”
Cas shrugged. “That’s fine.”
“Good.” Dean pulled out his phone and dialed his brother’s number. He explained the situation and asked him to bring the Impala to them. He hung up after he was done. “Sam’s coming soon. Just sit tight for a few minutes.”
“Okay,” Cas said quietly. He seemed kind of reserved, even more so than usual. Dean was worried, but he didn’t want to ask Cas too many questions.
Two or so minutes later, Sam pulled up in front of the house with the Impala. He got out and helped Dean bring Cas over to the car. He let go to open the door for Cas. Dean helped the angel get in, trying his best not to hurt Cas. He instructed Cas not to lean back against the seat because it would disturb the wounds on his back. Cas complied, sitting forward in the seat so he wasn’t tempted to rest against the back of the seat.
Dean hopped into the driver’s seat as Sam got into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll try to get us home as fast as possible, okay?” Dean said.
Cas nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Take your time. I don’t want to get in a car accident on top of all this.”
Dean rolled his eyes before focusing his attention on the road.
It took a little while, but Dean eventually pulled into the bunker’s garage. He hastily jumped out of his seat and opened Cas’s door, reaching his hands out and helping Cas get out of the car without hurting himself too much.
“I’ll take you to your room and clean you up. Unless you wanna do it yourself?” Dean gripped Cas’s arm so he wouldn’t fall over. Cas seemed okay, but he was a little shaky and Dean didn’t want to risk it.
“Uh…” Cas trailed off. “I don’t really care. My back will be hard to clean, so a little help wouldn’t hurt.”
Dean nodded. “All right. I’ll get you inside. Sam, you can just head to bed. Cas and I got it.”
“Sure, sounds good,” Sam said. “I’m really tired anyway. Good night, you two.”
“Have a good night, Sam,” Cas said quietly. He stepped forward, starting to walk without Dean’s guidance. He took Dean’s arm off his back, grabbed Dean’s duffel bag, and headed towards his room.
“Cas!” Dean called, trying to catch up with the angel. “Wait up! Let me help.”
Cas briefly turned around. “I’m fine, Dean,” he said, glowering. “I may as well help you since you’re going to help me clean up my injuries and bandage them up.”
Dean grabbed the duffel from Cas’s shoulder. “There’s no need to do that, Cas. Let’s just get you cleaned up.”
Cas rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he mumbled. He stopped in front of his room and opened the door. He rarely used the room, as evidenced by the crisp sheets and the many layers of dust that covered every surface in the room. Cas sat down on the bed and sighed, letting himself sink into the mattress.
“I’m gonna go grab some supplies,” Dean said. He came back less than five minutes later with an armful of medical supplies. He dropped them on the bed next to Cas. “Can you take off your coat and shirt?” he asked. Cas could feel Dean’s gaze latched on the deep cuts in his back. “It’ll be easier for me to get to the wounds.”
Cas nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He slipped his trench coat off his shoulders and assessed its condition. There were large slits in the back where his wings had poked through, made even worse once the demon started ripping the wings to shreds. He finished taking his suit jacket and dress shirt off, noticing that the once-white shirt was now bright red. He sighed and dropped them on the ground at his feet.
Gently, Dean began cleaning his wounds. Cas winced as Dean accidentally ran the cloth over his back with a little too much force. Dean apologized, but Cas told him it was fine. He needed to clean the wounds somehow. It took a while, but soon Dean was done cleaning Cas up and putting some bandages over the gaping cuts on his back. He even tried to do something about Cas’s other minor injuries, such as his bruises and his sore neck, but Cas told him not to bother, to just let them heal in their own time.
“Does that feel okay?” Dean asked, standing behind Cas and packing up the supplies he hadn’t used. “Do you want some pain medication or anything? Alcohol?”
Cas turned to face Dean and rolled his eyes. “No, no alcohol. And I don’t know that pain medication would do anything for me.”
Dean rounded the bed and sat down next to Cas. “If you’re sure.” He paused, looking contemplative. “You should probably get some sleep, Cas. Like you said, you lost a lot of power today. A little bit of sleep might do you some good.”
Cas shrugged and tapped his foot against the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.” He stood up and gestured for Dean to get off the bed. He started to pull back the sheets, but Dean stopped him.
“I’m gonna go grab you some more comfortable clothes for you to wear tonight,” Dean said. “I’ll be back soon.” He came back a few moments later with a loose pair of sweatpants and an old, faded AC/DC tee-shirt. He dropped them in Cas’s waiting arms and told him to go change, turning his back so Cas could do so with a little bit of privacy.
“Is that better?” Cas asked, an annoyed tone in his voice.
Dean turned back around and grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “You’ll be much more comfortable sleeping in that than you would be sleeping in your normal clothes.”
Cas lifted the edge of the tee-shirt and examined the hem. “I can see why you humans prefer this kind of attire during the night hours,” Cas said, more to himself than to Dean. “This feels… very nice.”
The corner of Dean’s mouth lifted in a half-smile and he shook his head. “Good. Try to get a nice amount of sleep. It’ll help you heal. I promise.”
Cas sighed a little but complied, pulling back the sheets and climbing into his barely used bed. He pulled the sheets up to his collarbone and turned on his side. The last thing he heard before he fell fast asleep was Dean exiting his room, taking Cas’s ruined clothes and the extra supplies with him.
Dean rolled his eyes as soon as he heard pots and pans clattering in the kitchen. He figured Sam was probably in there, cooking something so healthy it would probably annoy Dean. He turned on his side and shrugged. He would deal with that later, after he got a few more minutes of sleep.
After about five more minutes of rest, Dean got up and got dressed, throwing the first thing he saw on. The clothes could have been sitting there for weeks and Dean would have had no clue, but he didn’t really care that much. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and made his way to the kitchen to see what all the racket was about.
He stopped as soon as he got to the kitchen, surprised to see Cas there, something cooking on the stove and a fresh pot of coffee brewing on the counter. He went to the stove and cracked a few eggs in one of the pans. He went over to the other pan and flipped a pancake over, ending up with part of it on the ground by his feet.
“What’s going on, Cas?” Dean asked, stepping further into the kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”
Cas turned around quickly, accidentally dropping one of the empty eggshells he had been holding. “I’m making breakfast.”
Dean snorted. “I can see that. Any reason why?”
Cas shrugged. “I don’t know. I got kind of bored just sitting in my room, so I got up and made breakfast. I guess it’s sort of a thank you for taking care of me last night, after… you know. All that.”
Dean took a seat at the table and propped his chin on his hands. “Well, I appreciate that. But you really didn’t have to do that. I care about you, and so does Sam. We’ll help you out no matter what and we don’t expect anything in return.”
Cas stooped down to pick up his fallen eggshell and dropped it in the trash can. He turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast. He didn’t say anything for a while, and Dean assumed he probably had no clue what to say in return.
“So,” Dean said, trying to break the silence, “how did you sleep last night?”
Cas shrugged. “Not that well. I’m not really used to it.” He put another egg in the pan on the stove. “I woke up a while ago and grew bored very easily so I came here to make something to eat.”
Dean nodded slowly. “All right, then. You should probably eat something too. It’ll help you.”
Dean saw Cas’s shoulders visibly drop. He wanted to go over and console him, but he didn’t know what to say. He knew that Cas was upset about losing his wings and using all his power, but he just hoped that the angel would comply so he could get better. Not eating and not sleeping wouldn’t help him at all, and in the long run it would probably make his condition a lot worse than it already was.
“Hey,” Sam said, walking in with a large water bottle in his hand and a pair of earbuds dangling from his ears. His eyes focused on Cas at the stove, cooking. He gave him a weird look before shrugging and taking a seat at the table, across from Dean.
“Good morning, Sam,” Cas said, carrying a plate stacked full of pancakes and one with a substantial amount of scrambled eggs. He set them down, then went back to the counter to grab the mugs he had filled with coffee.
“Thank you,” Sam said politely, grabbing some eggs and a few pancakes.
Cas sat down next to Dean and gave a small smile. “You’re welcome.”
The three sat in silence as the Winchesters ate their breakfast, still thanking Cas for making it, even though Sam had no clue why Cas had decided to make a nice spread for the morning. Once he was done, Sam stood up and left, saying something about how he wanted to do some research on some lesser-known lore.
“Cas,” Dean said, putting the used and empty plates by the sink so he could wash them later, “why don’t you eat something? Why waste the food you worked so hard to prepare?”
Cas sighed. “I’m not really hungry, Dean,” he said, picking at the hem of Dean’s AC/DC tee-shirt.
Dean took the seat across from Cas. “Come on,” he said quietly. “I know this whole situation is new and you’re not used to it, but I’m trying to help you. Now, please, try to eat at least something. It might make you feel better.”
Cas frowned, but he did end up grabbing a plate. He scooped some eggs onto the plate and grabbed a pancake. He took a bite of each, then put his fork down, a contemplative look on his face.
“Is something wrong?” Dean asked, worried.
Cas shook his head. “No. It just tastes… different. I thought it would taste better.”
Dean chuckled. “I normally put some salt and pepper on the eggs and some butter on the pancakes. It gives them a different flavor, and, in my opinion, a much better taste.”
Cas grabbed the salt and pepper shakers and put a little bit on his eggs. He spread a bit of butter on his pancake and took a bite. “It’s good,” he said simply. “I like that.” He quickly finished the rest of his meal, shoveling down bits of egg and pieces of his pancake.
“Did that make you feel better?” Dean asked once Cas was finished. He helped Cas clear the table and clean the dishes at the sink.
Cas hesitated a bit. “A little bit, I guess.” He handed Dean the final plate that needed to be washed.
“Well,” Dean said, rinsing the plate under the steady stream of water, “that’s a start. Why don’t you head to your room and try to get some more sleep? That’ll help as well. I’ll come by later with some clothes you can wear so you don’t have to keep wearing those sweatpants and old tee-shirt.”
“Okay. I can try that.” He didn’t say anything else, just turned on his heel and headed back in the direction of his own room.
Cas stumbled into his room and shut the door behind him firmly. He went over to his bed and collapsed on top of the rumpled sheets from the night before. He hadn’t bothered to make the bed, and frankly he had no clue why anyone would do that. They were just going to mess it up again, so what was the point?
He contemplated the past twenty-four hours while lying on his back, hands folded over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. An intense feeling of guilt passed through his mind, and he took a while to try and place it. He was guilty about the night before. He hadn’t meant to get captured by the demon, but it happened anyway. The demon hurt him and cut his wings off, meaning the Winchesters had to take care of him afterwards. They shouldn’t have had to do that. Cas could take care of himself.
Cas turned on his side and stared at the ground next to his bed. He had left his dress pants there overnight, and looking at the sprays of blood that dotted them brought back horrible memories, terrible thoughts about his own condition. He was, essentially, useless. He couldn’t heal, he could barely fight, and he had a plethora of wounds that wouldn’t heal because he had lost so much of his power.
The Winchesters were going to kick him out. He just knew it. They didn’t care about him. They just cared about what Cas could do for them, help them out when they were in trouble.
Cas felt something wet roll down his cheek. He reached his hand up and brushed away the tears that were falling from his eyes.
It was stupid. He had no reason to cry. He was a millennia old, he could deal with his problems without crying. But still, he cried. He buried his head into the pillow and cried until he eventually fell asleep.
Dean walked past Cas’s room around lunchtime, planning on asking the angel to eat something, just anything, for lunch. He knocked on the door a few times but got no response. He twisted the doorknob and headed in. Cas was curled up on his bed, lying on top of the sheets like he hadn’t even meant to fall asleep. He was about to leave to let Cas sleep a little longer, but he noticed something shiny on Cas’s face that looked a little too much like tears.
“Cas!” he said, his voice a loud whisper. He sat down on the bed next to Cas and gently shook his shoulder. “Cas, are you okay? Is something wrong?”
Cas rolled onto his back and wiped his hand across his face. Once he noticed Dean sitting there, he batted Dean’s hand away from where it was resting on his shoulder.
“Cas,” Dean prompted again. “Are you all right?”
Cas sat up and stared at his door. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Dean was starting to get worried. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he knew that Cas wasn’t acting like himself.
“I was just… I was thinking about sad things before I fell asleep,” Cas said. He said it quietly and averted eye contact, instead looking at the rumpled sheets he was sitting on. Dean had a feeling he was lying, but he didn’t want to press anything.
“Okay,” Dean said slowly. He put a pair of jeans and a plain tee-shirt on Cas’s bed. “I brought you some clothes you could change into, if you want to. You don’t have to.”
Cas picked up the shirt and observed it. “I will. Thank you, Dean.”
“No problem,” Dean replied. “Come grab lunch in the kitchen.”
Dean left and went to the kitchen. He threw together something for lunch and left it on the table for Cas whenever he came in.
Cas walked into the kitchen a few moments later. He took a seat at the table and ate the food Dean had left out for him. When he finished, he took his plate to the sink and then went back to his room.
“Shit,” Dean muttered under his breath. He followed Cas to his room, catching the other man just before he opened the door to his room.
“Dean,” Cas said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.
“Can I check on your wounds?” Dean asked. “I might have to change the bandages.”
Cas shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” He opened the door and stood aside so Dean could get in. He walked in after him and shut the door. He sat down on the middle of his bed, his back facing towards Dean. He lifted his shirt off his back and folded it up, setting it in his lap.
Dean gently peeled the bandages off of Cas’s back, wincing as he took in the nasty red lines running down Cas’s back. He started to clean them up, trying his best not to hurt Cas or make the wounds worse than they already were.
“Can I ask you a question, Cas?” Dean asked, pausing his work on cleaning up Cas’s wounds.
Cas shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.”
Dean put down the cloth and walked around the side of the bed. He sat down next to Cas and angled his body so he was facing towards Cas. “What were you really crying about earlier? ‘Cause I know it wasn’t because you were thinking about random sad things before you fell asleep.”
Cas sighed. He looked down at the shirt he was holding in his lap. “I wasn’t thinking about that. I…” He trailed off and looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “I was just frustrated with everything that has happened. It’s… It’s different, not having the powers that I’m used to. I feel useless.”
Dean reached a hand forward to rest on Cas’s shoulder. “You’re not useless, Cas.”
Cas twisted his shirt around his fists and shook his head, denying what Dean had just said. “I’m afraid you and Sam are going to kick me out because I’m useless. I don’t have my powers right now. I can’t heal anyone, can’t--” He cut himself with a shaky deep breath in.
Dean frowned. “Cas, we would never kick you out. You’re part of our family. We care about you, no matter what.” He tightened his grip on Cas’s shoulder and gave him a soft look. “Don’t think like that, okay?”
Cas pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He nodded slowly. “All right,” he said quietly. “I understand. I guess I… I don’t know. I guess this is all new for me and I’m not used to feeling like this. I’m not used to feeling…” He trailed off and frowned. “Useless. Helpless.” He stared at the ground and shrugged. “I guess that sounds stupid.”
Dean shook his head. “No, it’s not stupid.” He leaned in closer to Cas and settled his hand on Cas’s knee. He was so close, he could just reach forward and kiss the angel, touch him, be close to him. But he didn’t know if he should do that. He liked Cas, he knew that, but he didn’t know how Cas felt in return. For all Dean knew, Cas secretly hated Dean and only just barely tolerated being in his presence.
Dean cleared his throat, banishing those thoughts from his mind. He stood up and gave Cas’s shoulder a final pat. “I’m gonna finish bandaging you up, okay?”
Cas nodded. He unfolded his legs and sat up so Dean would have better access to the wounds on his back. Gently, Dean placed the bandages on Cas’s back and secured them, making sure they would stay and that nothing could get in and cause an infection.
“There,” Dean said, observing the bandages once more to make sure they were good to go, “all done. You okay?”
Cas unfolded the shirt he had been holding in his lap and quickly threw it on. He twisted around so he could look at Dean and gave him a warm smile. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Dean inclined his head. “Yeah. ‘Course, man. No problem.” He scratched at the back of his head, trying his best to tear his gaze away from the rare smile Cas was giving him. He gestured over his shoulder towards the door. “I’m gonna head back to my room.”
Cas nodded. “All right. Goodbye.”
Dean gave him a wave and a small smile. “I’ll see you later, Cas.”