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It was the fifteenth time in one and a half minutes that Castiel had wriggled in his chair; Sam knew, he'd counted, and it was beginning to drive him crazy.
"Cass!" Sam yelled, feeling a flare of annoyance when the angel fidgeted again.
"Yes, Sam?" He replied, blinking innocently at him, his brow furrowed in pain.
The taller man sighed heavily, tugging his hand through his hair, and drew in a deep breath, "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine." Castiel whispered with a small nod, though the pained look in his eyes still didn't disappear.
Sam pushed his laptop aside and gave Castiel a disbelieving look, "Yeah, no. You've been fidgeting non-stop and its driving me crazy- it's kinda hard to concentrate on research when you're moving about every two seconds."
Castiel blushed and fisted his hands in his trenchcoat, staring determinedly at the wall behind Sam's head, "I will try to stay still. Sorry."
Sam sighed again and rubbed at his temples, "Don't worry, just stop fidgeting."
There was two seconds of silence before Castiel huffed and shifted again. Sam slammed his laptop shut and glared at Castiel across the table.
“What’s the matter with you?!” Sam demanded and held an accusing finger up at him, “Before you tell me that it’s nothing, I know that it's something because you’re never this restless!”
Castiel blushed and averted his gaze, fiddling with the belt of his trenchcoat, “Sorry, I’m very uncomfortable.”
Sam sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep, calming breath, “Well, why don’t you go take a walk? I can handle this.”
The angel shook his head, “No. That won’t help.”
Sam arched an eyebrow, “Why not?”
Castiel sighed, blushing a deep red colour, taking a heavy interest in the book in front of him, “It’s not because I’ve been sat down for too long or because my legs are restless.” Sam gave him an expectant look and he chuckled, “It’s a problem with my wings.”
Sam recoiled in shock, “Is there anything that I can do to help?”
Castiel shook his head, “No, this is something that only another angel or my mate can do.”
Sam chuckled softly, throwing Castiel a knowing look, “So, this is a Dean thing?”
Castiel stared at him in shock, mouth falling open slightly, “You know?”
The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, “You’re not exactly subtle about it. Does Dean know?” Castiel nodded, “For how long?”
“A few years now.” He explained.
Sam let out a low whistle, “And you’ve only just told me?”
“Dean didn’t want to. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was afraid of how you would react- he didn’t want to lose you.” Castiel replied, throwing Sam a sad look.
Sam frowned, his features softening, “He wouldn’t lose me, I’m not like that.”
Castiel let out a sad sigh, “But, he remembers how negatively your father reacted when he found out about Dean’s first boyfriend and he holds onto that, despite knowing that you won’t hurt him like John did.”
“I’m not Dad.” Sam replied with a frown.
Castiel made a soft noise, throwing Sam a comforting smile, “I know that, Dean doesn’t though. He’s adamant that you’ll react in the same way, especially as we’re so close to each other.”
Sam made a pained noise, “I understand, but I need to talk to Dean about this.”
“You need to talk to Dean about what?”
Sam and Castiel jumped and their heads snapped towards the door, both too wrapped up in their conversation to notice that Dean had come home.
“Sam knows Dean.” Castiel whispered, slowly rising from his chair and approaching the green-eyed Winchester.
“Sam knows what?” Dean replied, eyes wide with fea, and his grip tightened on the bags of food.
Sam stood up and stomped over to Dean, cringing when the man flinched at the sudden movement. He stood in front of his brother, surveying the man’s face; the sheen of tears in his eyes; the fearful frown between his eyebrows; the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was petrified.
Sam made a pained noise and wrapped his brother in a tight hug, burying his head in his shoulder. Dean sighed softly, the food falling from his grip to return the hug, and he squeezed Sam tighter, relishing in the warmth of the hug.
“You don’t hate me?” Dean whimpered, his voice small.
Sam pulled away from the hug, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder, giving it a soft, comforting squeeze, “I could never hate you, Dean. I’m not Dad, okay? I love you, man. Whether you’re with a chick or with a dude. I don’t care that you’re with Cass, in fact I’m glad because you losers have been pining after each other for years and I’d about had enough. So, congrats on pulling your heads outta your arses and getting together.”
Dean chuckled and nodded, “Thank you, Sammy.”
Sam leant down and grabbed some food for himself before moving towards the door, plucking Dean’s keys from the bedside table.
Dean fixed him with a confused look, “Where are you going?”
“Our resident Angel of the Lord is having wing problems and needs your help. I’ve been told that I’m unworthy of seeing them, so I’m going to go for a drive and leave you two in peace to fix Cass’ wings.” He explained, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Castiel frowned softly, “It’s not that you’re unworthy, Sam.”
Sam cut him off with a laugh, “I know, you great goof, I was teasing you.”
Castiel grinned and rocked forward on the balls of his feet, “Okay.”
“Now, have fun, and don’t make a mess of the room. And don’t use my bed.” Sam called out as he pulled open the door and stepped out of it.
“It’s not sexual!” Dean yelled after him and Sam rolled his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips as he slipped into the driver’s seat of the impala.
He drove towards the town’s library and searched for every book that he could find on angels, hoping that he’d be able to teach himself about winglore.
Meanwhile, back at the motel, Dean had Castiel laid out on his bed, on his stomach with his top layers of clothing stripped down to the skin. He sat straddling Castiel’s hips, raised up onto his knees so that he didn’t put too much pressure on the angel.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were having wing problems?” Dean whispered, running his hands over Castiel’s shoulder blades.
“We had more important things to deal with, I did not want to distract you.” Castiel explained.
“Cass,” Dean began, an admonishing tone to his voice, “nothing is more important to me than your comfort. You should have told me.”
“Sorry.”
Dean sighed and leant down to press a soft kiss to one of Castiel’s shoulders, “Don’t apologise. Just tell me next time.”
Castiel gave a soft nod, “I will.”
Dean gently patted his shoulder and leaned back slightly, “Get them out then.”
Castiel snorted and threw Dean an amused look over his shoulder, “You make it sound so improper.” Dean glared playfully at him and he smiled cheekily, “Okay, lean back.”
“I already am.” Dean retorted and grinned when Castiel stuck his tongue out, “Talk about improper.”
Castiel reached back and swatted at Dean’s thigh, holding a finger to his lips to silence his mate before closing his eyes, reaching out to his wings, bringing them forward into the human plane of existence.
Dean drew in a sharp breath through his nose, still unused to the beauty of his angel’s wings, and tipped himself forward again, surveying the damage that had been done to the once beautiful feathers.
The feathers on his shoulders were sparse, revealing the skin beneath them that was ripped and bloody in some places. He was missing a few of his covert feathers and others had become disjointed, digging into uncomfortable places, and most were clumped together with blood. There were twigs and clumps of grass in between his feathers and they were covered in mud and other dirt.
Dean frowned softly and made a pained noise in the base of his throat, fingers ghosting over the tips of his feathers, “Cass.” He breathed, “This is horrible, you should’ve told me.”
“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel whispered, burying his head in the pillow in embarrassment.
Dean made a soft noise and pressed a soft kiss to the space between Castiel’s wings, “It’s okay, let’s get you cleaned up so you can heal.”
Castiel nodded and made a soft noise of pain when Dean pulled a sharp twig out of his wings, “Ow.”
“I’m sorry, Cass, but it’s got to be done.” Dean soothed, gently massaging the base of Castiel’s spine, “I’ll try to be gentle, okay?” He waited until Castiel nodded before continuing, fingers pulling out clumps of grass, twigs and loose feathers, all while rubbing a soothing hand across the base of his spine.
Eventually, Castiel relaxed, sinking into the mattress, and allowed himself to relish in the feel of Dean’s hands massaging his feathers. After another short while, Dean pulled away and dusted his hands off over the side of the bed.
“I’ve cleaned out all the debris and loose feathers, I just need to give your wings a good clean so I’m going to get some hot, soapy water and a washcloth. You stay here.” Dean explained and grinned when Castiel gave a blissed out noise of agreement.
He jumped off the bed and wandered over to the bathroom to get a bowlful of water before returning back to the bed. He settled the bowl on the bedside table before he climbed back over Castiel, straddling his hips. He wet the cloth and set about cleaning Castiel’s feather, washing away the dirt and grime that had settled over them, turning them from their normal black to a horrible brown colour.
Castiel let out a low moan of happiness, his wings quivering at the sensation of the water falling over them, cleaning away the layers of dirt. He sighed and melted into the mattress, losing himself both in the feel of Dean’s touch and of the steady cleaning of his wings, both touches working to lull him into a near-sleep state.
It took a while and a few trips to the bathroom for clean water to properly clean Castiel’s wings, but it was worth it in the end. The wings, now washed, had been returned to their former glory, the black wings shining iridescent in the light of the motel room.
Dean smiled softly and pressed a soft kiss to Castiel’s spine, bringing the angel back from his blissed out state of near-slumber, “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Angel’s don’t sleep, Dean.” Castiel replied, giving his wings an experimental flutter and groaned at the newly-cleansed feel.
“It was a figure of speech, Cass.” Dean retorted, fondly rolling his eyes before arching a question eyebrow at his angel, “How do they feel?”
Castiel hummed softly, “Much better. Thank you, Dean.”
“Anytime. It’s my job as your mate to look after you.” Dean whispered, pressing a fond kiss to the back of Castiel’s head.
“You might want to close your eyes.” He whispered, “I need to heal these and the light will be too bright for your eyes to handle.”
Dean nodded and closed his eyes, a flash of white appearing beside them before Castiel spoke up again, “You can open them. I’ve done what I need to.”
The wings, once battered and bruised, were now returned to their former glory, full and blooming with feathers, fluttering softly as Castiel felt out the area around him. The laserations that had covered his shoulders were now healed and new, soft-looking feathers had grown over them.
“You’re beautiful.” Dean muttered, still at awe with the wings despite having seen them a multitude of times.
Castiel rolled his eyes and smiled softly, “You say that every time, Dean.”
“Well, it’s the truth.” He retorted and placed a soft hand on Castiel’s wrist when he made a move to vanish his wings, “Don’t do it, not yet. Lay with me?”
In those few words, Castiel knew what Dean wanted and he nodded softly, motioning for Dean to stand up. The hunter smiled softly and climbed off the bed, allowing Castiel to arrange himself properly before climbing into his arms.
Castiel grinned at him and wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him close to his chest as he cocooned him in his wings, the soft feathers brushing over the top of his head and tracing the line of his spine.
“It’s so warm.” Dean whispered, eyes already slipping shut.
Castiel chuckled, “You say that every time too.”
Dean smiled and swatted at his chest, not opening his eyes. Castiel flicked his ear with the tip of his wing, grinning when he pouted like a petulant child.
“I’m sorry.” Castiel whispered, but he didn’t sound too apologetic.
“No, you’re not.” Dean grumbled and grinned again when Castiel pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
“Go to sleep, my mate. We’ll wake in a while and have food.” The angel ordered, fondly smiling when Dean nodded and nuzzled further into his chest.
Castiel curled his wings and arms tighter around his mate, pulling him impossibly closer, and rested his chin on top of Dean’s head, listening to the soft puffs of air falling from his lips, at peace with his mate wrapped in his arms.
In that moment, the world could have ended and he wouldn’t have moved- nothing mattered more to him than the tranquility that had settled over his mate, such an infrequent emotion that Castiel relished in the feel of it.
Happiness and peace: found in the most unusual places.