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There was a breeze in the room that hadn't been there when Dean had gone to sleep. A cold breeze that had him cocooning himself further into his bed even as he tried to open his eyes.
Damn eyelids took forever to cooperate.
"My apologies, I did not mean to wake you," a familiar voice whispered over the sound of a window closing. The snap of the lock finally pulled his eyes open and Dean looked up to find a wall of feathers in front of him.
Castiel was home.
The feathers were a soft black, dark as the night except for where it tapered to grey at the stems. With his wings down as they were, they fell like a cape over Castiel's back.
When he turned, the talons of his feet clicked on the wood floor and Castiel tucked his wings back as best he could in the small space of Dean's bedroom. He didn't knock anything over and Dean flashed him a smile.
"The wards around the building have held firm," Castiel assured him, a nervous smile on his face. Dean sat up, reaching for his would-be familiar.
The once and future crow ducked his head and Dean cupped Castiel's face. "I wasn't worried," Dean drawled. His eyes flicked lower, taking stock of Castiel's body.
He was more human this time.
Every few nights, Castiel the crow shifted beneath the light of the moon and the flickering candles of Dean's shop downstairs. The man he became was attractive, with a strong jaw and a deep voice that sent shivers down Dean's spine.
Being attracted to his familiar was not an issue Dean had ever foreseen. Perhaps he should've been paying more attention to his brother's tarot readings...
"Shift go okay?" Dean cleared his throat and dragged his eyes up from the bare skin of Castiel's chest. He swiped his thumb over the jaw beneath his palm.
"It did," Castiel smiled and Dean caught the way his throat bobbed, "I appreciate you leaving clothes out for me."
Dean grinned, "Well, after that last time when you shifted with Sam here... I figured you'd prefer to have some pants ready to go from now on."
The blush that rose over Castiel's cheeks was beautiful. Dean resisted the temptation to stretch up to kiss him properly. He settled for sitting up and swinging his legs out of the bed.
"Well, if you shifted, that usually means we have a storm coming our way."
That was possibly the biggest understatement of the night.
Castiel had done a check of the town before slipping in to Dean's room. A perimeter sweep, as the newly shifted man called them. There were vampires gathering on the edge of town. Hiding in the mountains during the day most like, and careful who they hunted at night while they waited for their numbers to grow. Dean knew they were planning something, building up to some sort of grand scheme.
Problem was, he had no idea what.
Even when Castiel described what he saw. The increased numbers. The defenses they'd built. It just made even less sense.
"Why would vampires fortify their position?" Dean scrunched up his nose as they walked down the stairs and into his shop, "They're the hunters, not the prey."
"Well, that's not entirely true, is it?" Castiel looked at him pointedly. Dean scoffed.
"I'm a shopkeeper at a witch supply shop, Sam is the witch," Dean argued, eyes rolling. Castiel frowned.
They'd had this argument before. Witches had familiars, not humans, and Castiel was Dean's familiar. Except... not really. Not since he'd started to shift into a near human form on a regular basis. And if you'd asked Dean before, he'd have said Castiel was just a pet. A guardian for the store, not for him. Certainly not a familiar, not in the traditional sense.
"You underestimate yourself, Dean," Castiel spoke with a firm voice as he stepped into Dean's space. His brow was lowered, forehead wrinkled in determination, "You always have."
Dean's throat bobbed at the sudden proximity. He leaned back against the counter, grabbing hold of the edge, "I'm not a witch. I didn't inherit the magic. I just run the store."
Eyes narrowing, Castiel took another step. One hand moved to Dean's waist, the other to his face. Palm cupping Dean's face, Castiel whispered, "There is magic in everyone Dean Winchester, but none more than you."
A sudden arrow sliced through the air, drilling through and shattering the shop's front window. It slammed into Dean's chest, boring through his flesh. He fell to the ground. Pain bloomed out from where the arrow was sticking out of his chest and the warmth spreading out from the wound across his skin was mostly certainly blood.
"Dean!" Castiel squawked. His hands were on Dean in seconds. Just as quickly, they were gone. Despite his blurring vision, Dean made out the rope wrapping around Castiel, tightening like a vice around his body even as Castiel's wings and arms struggling against them.
"Cas~" Dean croaked, hand reaching out before it fell useless at his side. His world went black and all Dean could think about was Castiel. The name falling from his lips again as the vampires dragged his familiar away. "Castiel..."
Whether Dean admitted it or not, he was a witch. The magic of two of the greatest bloodlines the world had ever known pumping through his body. It spilled out onto the floor as the blood poured from his chest.
There is no magic stronger than love. No bond greater than that between a witch and their familiar. Dean didn't need a ritual to work a spell. He had more than enough intention.
Every witch in a hundred miles felt his call, felt his desperation. Unfortunately for the vampires... there were quite a lot of them.
-.-.-
When Dean woke up, the wound in his chest was healed. A nasty scare was fading in its place.
"Well, well, deary, I always wondered what could make you break out of that repressed little shell of yours," Rowena grinned down at him, teeth on full display as Dean blinked. "That pretty little crow of yours must be something special."
Dean blushed, hand rubbing at his chest as he sat up. He was still in his shop. The shelves full of potion and spell ingredients untouched. Minus the glass that was now littering the ground, it looked quite normal.
"The vampires... they took him," Dean coughed, reaching up for the lip of the counter to pull himself to his feet. He stumbled and Rowena immediately wrapped an arm around his waist.
"I know deary, every witch in town knows," Rowena smiled ruefully, "I'd be surprised if those vamps made it back to their nest before they found themselves surrounded by a few pissed off apprentices. You know how cranky they can be when they're woken up early..."
The glare on Dean's face did not change. He aimed it at Rowena, lips curling, "This is serious, Rowena. Cas has been shifting more often. The vampires are building defenses. Something is going on!"
Rowena rolled her eyes, "I know." She emphasized the words. Spoke slowly. Crossing her arms, she huffed, "I haven't stuck close to town just because my coven's latest batch of initiates needed a strong hand."
"Explain," Dean was outright scowling, brow furrowed as he leaned heavily on the counter. His fingers twitched towards the bottle of whiskey he kept beneath the register, but he didn't reach for it.
"It was Samuel's idea..." Rowena sniffed, arms crossing, eyelashes fluttering. It was far too obvious for such a good liar. Dean waited. She huffed, hands moving to her hips, "The covens merely thought it would be helpful for the apprentices to have a worthwhile trial for their last rites."
Brow furrowing, Dean pursed his lips. That sounded like the covens had started sending witches after vampires, disturbing their tentative and unspoken truce... they wouldn't be that stupid?
"I guess the vampires didn't take kindly to our 'placing bounties' on their heads." Rowena rolled her eyes as she used the finger quotes. Steam may actually have started to come out of Dean's ears.
"You fucking idiots are the reason vampires have been camping outside the city!" Dean yelled, arms flying high. "Cas has been scouting their camp for weeks and I couldn't figure out why they'd started gathering in such high numbers, but obviously!" He paused to scowl at her, "They thought there was safety in numbers."
"High numbers?" Rowena cleared her throat, lashes fluttering again, "Just… uh, how high a number exactly?"
Dean took a breath, nostrils flaring, "My friends and family discount is about to expire." He shoved past her towards the door.
How in the hell it became Dean's job to save a bunch of baby witches, he didn't know, but he was gonna. Mostly because saving them would also save Cas... but he didn't have to tell Rowena that. Or Sam. Who was definitely getting an earful later if he had anything to do with this stupid witchy rite of passage.
Three hours and a half dozen vampire beheadings later, Dean kicked open the makeshift cell they had Castiel in. He found his familiar wrapped in iron spikes, with bruises on his neck from the rope tied around his neck, and blood dripping from his wings. If he hacked off the next vampire's head with a bit more force, Dean was okay with that.
"I've got you," Dean spoke softly as he began to unwind the iron chains. He took great care in pulling the spikes away from Castiel's skin and feathers. His nostrils flared as one of the spikes came away bloody. Feathers stuck to the dark red liquid that coated the metal.
Castiel groaned, nose scrunching up. He took a breath, throat bobbing, "It'll heal."
"They won't," Dean gestured back towards the vampires he'd slain with a jerk of his head. "They took out six initiates and a handful of apprentices too."
He started unknotting the rope around Castiel's limbs. They'd restrained his arms and legs, not just his neck. It was excessive, given the iron spikes and the literal cell doors. They hadn't bothered for any of the witches.
"I ought to count myself lucky then," Castiel huffed as he stretched out his wings. He staggered forward. His left wing twitched as he tried to pop one of the dislocated joints back into place. He was unsuccessful, "I won't be flying for a few weeks, but I'm alive."
Dean nodded, brow still furrowed. He wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist, taking his weight as the familiar stumbled with his next step.
"I don't understand why they took me in the 8first place, if their target was the witches..." Castiel let his head fall onto Dean's shoulder as they walked out of the vampires' base of operations. There were witches and hunters all around them, in various states of health.
"Bait," Dean sighed, nose wrinkling, "Nothing will motivate witches to move like a familiar in danger." He scowled in Rowena's direction, "The vamps might have overestimated their ability to win, but there's been a lot of that going around."
With a hum, Castiel frowned, "I suppose now that we know what the threat is..." Dean's eyes flickered to him, lashes fluttering. Castiel gulped, his gaze moved over the decimated vampires, "...my shifting... it was a response to the danger. You've neutralized it."
"Well... there's still vamps out there," Dean cleared his throat, blush rising on his cheeks, "I might've asked Rowena about a potion for you. Let you control the shift yourself." Castiel smiled. He waited till they were back in the privacy of Dean's shop to kiss him properly, but Castiel couldn't resist placing a small peck on Dean's cheek.
"As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."