Chapter Text
Dean sat on the edge of his bed in the motel room he had Sam had been in for the last week. They’d just finished the hunt, and would hopefully be heading back to the bunker soon, but they still needed to stick around for a bit to check that they had caught the whole nest. The moon was shining through the window, lighting the room just enough for Dean to see Sam’s sleeping form under the other bed, and the completely empty chair which he couldn’t help but wish was filled with a certain trenchcoated angel. He always slept better when Cas was around, and seeing as Cas had been completing business up in Heaven for most of the last month, Dean was not doing well in the whole sleep department. Even his usual four hours was difficult when Cas was away, and he knew that he should really think about what that meant, but he refused to touch it with a ten foot pole.
Cas was his best friend, and wasn’t interested in being any more than that. Dean could respect that, and if part of that respect was taking the bundle of something in his chest and burying it so deep down that he didn’t even think about what that feeling was called, then so be it.
Ripping his gaze away from the chair, Dean shifted until he was leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together as he breathed shakily. “Hey Cas,” he whispered, so quiet that it was barely audible even in the silent room, “I don’t know if you’ve got your ears on, but it would be great if you could drop in some time. I- We miss you dude, and it would be nice to check that your feathery ass hasn’t landed in any world ending shit again.” Dean winced. Why had he said that? Well done to him, friend of the year right there, brought up his friend's deepest insecurities just because he was too emotionally repressed to tell them they mattered to him. “Anyway, yeah, it’s been a while buddy, and I know you’re busy upstairs and all, but if you have a free moment-”
Dean didn’t even bother finishing his sentence, he just sighed to himself in disappointment and slight disgust, and stood up, wiping his slightly clammy hands on his sleep shirt as though he was physically wiping the connection to prayer away. It was a slight fear every time he did this, that he wouldn’t close the prayer properly—hang up the prayer? Disconnect the prayer? Dean had no idea—and Cas would be stuck with the true darkness of Dean’s thoughts throughout the day as they were filtered through a prayer. And wasn’t it just a joke, that even though he had no idea what he was doing, and even though it gave him more unwanted anxiety than anything else, he still found himself sitting on the edge of his bed praying to Cas as soon as Sam was asleep. He never said anything important, mainly just hunt updates, or requests for the angel to drop in, or funny anecdotes he thought Cas might want to hear, and he didn’t even know if Cas received them, he never mentioned it anyway. And yet here he was, still doing it. If you had told him when he was younger that he would be praying every night, then he’d have thought you were insane, even if you'd told him he would be praying to a rebel angel rather than God, but that was just how Cas was. He made Dean do insane shit without even asking him to.
The bed sheets were cold when Dean climbed back in, the slight warmth he’d managed to generate earlier in the night already dissipated while he was away praying, but even the cold couldn’t stop his heavy eyelids from slipping closed, and he didn’t even notice the spring which had been digging into his back for the past week as he slipped quickly away.
The motel door slamming closed woke him up the next morning. He had no idea how long he’d been sleeping, but his eyes felt gritty and he would have probably thrown a pillow and his giganteum of a brother who he could hear stomping around the room, except he could also smell coffee and bacon, and he didn’t want to risk knocking them onto the floor.
“Sammy,” he mumbled, not moving his face out of his pillow or making any move to start getting up. Instead he pulled his covers even tighter around him until he was surrounded in the sheets he’d warmed all night long, and he could almost ignore the spring that was digging into his shoulder.
“Yeah?” Sam replied. He sounded way too awake for this early in the morning, and worse than that, he sounded amused. Only Sam would wake him up this early in the morning, and then laugh at him when he did his best to physically bury himself back into the bed.
“I hate you.”
He couldn’t ignore his discomfort for any longer, and the smell of breakfast was a good enough incentive to have Dean pushing himself out of bed and ambling into the bathroom, grabbing his toiletry bag and some clean clothes to have a quick shower.
The warm water against his stiff muscles felt amazing, and he really didn’t want to get out at the end; but his breakfast was going cold, and even if the water had woken him up a little bit, he wouldn’t be fully awake until he’d drunk his entire cup of hot coffee and eaten whatever food Sam had bought for him. Hopefully it didn't have anything green in it. Dean was not in the mood for that this morning.
He was just pulling his jeans on when the sound of wings fluttering came from the main room, and without even waiting to put his socks on, Dean unlocked the door, excitement running through him which quickly turned to disappointment when instead of seeing his- instead of seeing Castiel, he saw Gabriel standing in the middle of the floor and talking to Sam who seemed to be staring at something Gabe was holding with an air of amusement.
“This isn’t funny Sam,” said a low voice that definitely wasn’t Gabe’s.
“What-” Dean started asking, cutting himself off when Gabe turned around and Dean was able to see a small winged plushie bear—like the kind you'd get from Build-a-Bear—sitting in his arms, with a grumpy frown and a trenchcoat. “No way.” Was all he was able to say as his mind scrambled.
There was no way that was Cas.
Sure, maybe the bear had Cas’ piercing bright blue eyes, and it's fur was the same color as Cas' hair, and it a even had a miniature version of his trencoat and suit combo, and okay maybe he did look just like a miniature Castiel… but there was no way that Dean’s best friend was the small bear plushie that Gabe was holding.
No way…
“Stop staring, it’s rude,” the bear told him—and Jesus fuck yes that plushie was talking—with a way too familiar glare and head tilt combo.
"Come on Cassie, give him a break," Gabe laughed and holy fuck that meant it really actually definitely was Cas. "It's not every day your friend comes home pint-sized, fluffy, and moody."
The bear—Cas, Dean reminded himself—just looked even more moody at that, but he did nod. "Yes, I suppose it would be rather surprising," he agreed.
"Yeah, why are you a bear?" Dean asked in confusion, looking between Cas and Gabe and hoping at least one of them would have an answer for him.
"I'm not a bear! My vessel is just slightly altered at the moment."
"Your vessel is a bear plushie," Dean replied, "point remains, what happened to you?"
"I believe Cassie might have upset a couple of angels while he's been in Heaven," Gabe answered when it was clear Cas wasn't going to. "One of them did this, probably just wanted to get him out of the way for a while, but we can't rule out the possibility that they might be planning more."
"Can you reverse it?" Sam asked.
"Maybe," Gabe shrugged, "I'll have to look into it, we can only hope."
"Hopefully I'll be back to normal soon," Cas muttered, looking at his small hands—paws?—in annoyance. He wriggled around a bit—well, at least he could move about on his own. Even if he was a toy bear—until Gabe put him down, the movement drawing Dean's attention back to the wings attached to his back. The wings which were not there last time Dean saw his friend.
They were black, though they flickered all the colors of the rainbow when they caught the light—almost like an oil spill—and were nothing like Dean would have imagined angel wings if he'd ever been asked what they would look like. Except attached to Cas—even looking like a Build-a-Bear as he did at the moment—they looked even more magnificent than Dean would have even thought possible on the mortal plain. They looked silky, and Dean could feel something inside him itching to reach over and bury his hands on the feathers. To feel whether they were as soft as they looked.
"Cas, why do you have wings?" Sam asked, breaking Den out of his thoughts before his arm could do much more than raise slightly, a gesture he smoothly translated into rubbing the back of his neck. He was glad to hear that Sam was able to see the wings too, otherwise he would have to assume he'd just gone insane, even if Sam didn't sound anywhere near as awe-inspired as he really should have.
"I've always had wings," Cas sighed like it was obvious, wandering over to the table with Dean's breakfast on it and standing on his tiptoes—do toy bears even have toes? Dean was so confused—to peer up at it.
Gabe laughed loudly, looking like he was a moment away from falling over while he watched Cas with glee. "You're right Sasquatch, normally his wings are as hidden as mine are right now, but it seems that he can't do that right now, and that leaves him here all cute and feathered as well as fluffy."
"Shut up Gabriel," Cas muttered, climbing onto the chair and grabbing some of the bacon off Dean's breakfast burger. He seemed able to eat, which Dean was a bit unsure about seeing as, hello, that was a stuffed bear! But he didn't actually do anything to stop Cas. He felt like he should really be getting annoyed, or at the very least asking Cas what he was doing, that was his bacon after all! But Gabe wasn't lying when he said that Cas was cute, and he looked so happy with the bacon, and Dean really didn't feel like stopping such a simple thing that was making Cas smile in that way.
"Wait, why did you bring him here?" Sam asked him suddenly, "surely Cas would be safer in Heaven, or somewhere that no humans will see his wings and realize that angels exist—or, you know, see a moving toy bear and panic thinking that Toy Story is real."
"Easy," Gabe shrugged, "I need to go and figure out how to reverse this, but I can't leave Cassie all alone while he's defenseless."
"Ohh," Dean grinned, sitting down on his bed and finally pulling his socks on, something he only just remembered he hadn't already done, "we're your glorified babysitters! Bearsitters?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Gabe grinned back, "you're not glorified anything."
"Thanks Gabriel, I'm really feeling the love over here," Dean laughed, standing up and grabbing his coffee—which was thankfully still warm. He looked at his burger, planning to grab it to eat as well, but Cas was still picking at it and Dean wasn't going to steal his food back when Cas was clearly enjoying it.
He walked back to his bed and sat down to sip his coffee, ignoring Sam's knowing look when he saw Cas still with the burger. Dean knew that Sam would do the same, it wasn't like any sane person would be able to say no to their little feathered friend. He might not have tried it yet, but Dean was certain that his puppy dog eyes would be ten times better than Sam's had ever been.
"So what's the plan anyway?" Dean asked, leaning back on his elbows and trying not to get lost in Cas' eyes like he normally did. It felt weird when Cas looked like a toy bear, even if he really wasn't acting like one.
"I'm planning to stay here for now, do some research, try to figure out who cast the spell, or at least how to reverse it, and then try to reverse it."
"Okay, so we don't actually have to do anything," Dean checked, feeling like there had to be a catch somewhere. This was Gabriel after all.
"I mean, you're going to be keeping an eye on a winged bear," Gabe shrugged, "and maybe he'll continue to act normal and it'll just be like normal, or maybe he'll turn into a literal winged plushie bear."
"That might happen?"
"I won't know until I find the spell," Gabe shrugs, "but even if it does, it'll be your problem, not mine."
"You just really hate plushies," Cas sighed, finishing the burger and wiping his hands on the napkin in front of him. "It appears that whatever caused this," he gestured to his small fluffy vessel, "has affected my grace in some way, as I'm finding myself able to taste food. Whether that means I'm going to have to eat and drink is yet to be seen, but taste is a yes." He hopped off his chair then, and walked over to sit next to Dean on his bed, his little wings flapping as he moved like a little blackbird.
"Sue me, I don't like their emotionless, beady, eyes. They look like if they could walk, they would murder, and I don't trust you not to turn into a walking, murdering, plushie!" Dean seriously hoped that wasn't a story behind that. "And that's fine, I'm sure Sam and Dean can deal with feeding an angel bear. They have to feed themselves after all."
Dean wasn't sure if Gabe continued talking, all his attention now on the wings which were just a few inches from his hand. It took everything in him to stop himself from reaching out, even though he knew it would be beyond rude. There was something screaming in Dean's head, telling him to feel how soft they were, and it was only Dean's skill of repressing literally everything that meant he could hold back.
Clearly there was something going on here, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what it was… scratch that. He definitely didn't want to know what it was.
He'd managed to get this far by ignoring everything he didn't want to look at too closely, and he couldn't exactly see that changing any time soon.