Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It just happened.

The day was boring and hot, the brother’s were at Bobby’s house researching a nearby case. Dean went to get a beer, slumped into the chair at the dining table and it happened. All of his memories came flooding right back.
His name was Meraphiel, an angel of the lord - an archangel. You most likely dont know who that is, dont worry, neither did Dean. Before getting his memory back, those words would have meant nothing to him, he didn’t even know angels did exist beyond fairytales and stories.

But now, it meant everything, it was now everything in just a few long seconds. He was one of the greats, one of the strongest angels there is.

And by God he was fierce.
He was deadly, mischievous, cunning, stubborn .

It made him a soldier, a great son in the eyes of his father. But father was every angels father, and not one Angel wouldn’t have jealousy towards the favourites. The archangel never knew that feeling would turn into something way more until it was too late. Too late to stop his downfall.

*****

Dean looked down at the broken pieces of glass all over the floor, he didn’t know how long he must have been zoned out for, but the sun was now blasting through the blinds and onto his face.

“Shit."

His Brain was racing, trying to process what was happening, what to do with this Information?

He should tell Castiel-

No he shouldn’t .
“Dean.” He jumped in his seat, speak of the Angel.
“You called me.” Oh. Cas was just a friend a moment ago, a friend he knew nothing about. But now, he knows a lot, yet still not enough for his liking.“Well I didn’t mean to, Cas. I was just thinking.”

“Sorry for the disruption then.” Cas goes to leave but dean stops him with a touch to the arm,“You- don’t have to leave, I didn’t mean to sound rude.” Yet you did, driving everyone away even the angels.
“No it’s not that, I’d stay if I could, however my brothers are at each other’s throats and I need to try and keep things civilised.” Castiel always was the one who tried to keep everything calm.

“Well, you can go back to your heavenly duties then.” Castiel smiled at his sarcasm. He clicked his fingers and was gone with a flap of wings. He cleaned up the mess for Dean, considerate and kind Angel: that’s Cas.

Would he still be so nice if he knew who Dean really was? Who he used to be? Dean didn’t want to find out.

******

It wasn’t only the memories that came flooding back.

Dean wasn’t very human anymore… at all actually.

He hadn’t dare to look at his wings however, he could only just imagine the horrors of them, he could already feel them enough without them even in the same dimension as he was in.

He was sitting in a field of flowers — daisies he presumed. half naked, shirt off and boots by his side.
He had driven an hour and ended up here - wherever this was. It was quite lovely actually, it reminded him of where he and Michael used to play when they had time, which there really never was, even in the millions and millions of years they had together.

He thought back to his life as Dean. Was he Dean? Was he sam’s brother? Or was he just some Angel that took this body.

Of course he was Sam’s brother! he couldn’t let his old life change that. Maybe I’m both, he thought. I am Dean and Meraphiel, I wasn’t overlooking. But would his brother feel the same?

Would he still care for him if he knew the truth? Just another reason to keep the Angel stuff a secret. He’d have to try and act normal in front of everyone. He can't let them get suspicious, he just can't.

He drifts off into his thoughts for a while, eyes shut, lips parted.
So much was different and there were so many things to do, so little time.

He feels a breeze push on his back and a ruffle sound from behind him.

Great.

Chapter Text

He drifts off into his thoughts for a while, eyes shut, lips parted.

He feels a cold breeze push on his back and a ruffle sound from behind him.

Great.

“Dean Winchester.” He could tell just by his tone who the stranger was: Uriel.

It is pretty easy to piss off angels, and if Uriel hasn’t changed one bit at all from all those years ago, it’d still be easy to piss him off.

“Who are you? another one of those angels?” He almost forgot Dean didn’t know anything about angels apart from Castiel.

“I am Uriel, an Angel of the lord, Castiel must have mentioned me to you by now, he does love to talk… and I’ve heard he’s quite fond of you.” Meraphiel didn’t know what to take from that, so he said nothing and listened to the Angel. “I have come here in no light regard, Winchester, something big is happening, something bigger than you or myself. So you will listen to what I have to say.” He starts to slowly walk around him, crushing flowers with heavy black boots.

“Why are you here, Uriel?” He glares at the other angel. He had never liked Uriel, who would? He’s always been an emotionless douche bag.

“I think you know the answer to that, Dean.” Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes, god he was annoying, just a few words made him crawl into a ball and wait to die.

“The answers no. I’m not helping you or any of your winged friends with the apocalypse. Now, will that be all, sir?”

“Just making sure you hadn’t changed your mind. I’m sure next time we speak I'll hear something different." A smirk is what he sees before Uriel is gone.

He sighs, “fucking angels.”

******

He’d been staring at his food for a long while now, poking it with his fork, driving Sam slowly insane.

The third poke to the sausage was enough for Sam.
“Dude just eat your food.” Dean only glared at him as he poked it again.
“I’m not hungry.” Sam makes a face and looks up from his computer.
He looked amused when he said, “you, not hungry? Where is my brother and what have you done with him.” he laughed.

“Haha, very funny.” Truth is, Dean couldn’t eat. It tasted like shit. Everything tasted like chemicals yet his cravings for a nice juicy burger wouldn’t go away. So here he is forcing himself to eat a sad looking meal.

“Anyways, when you’re done you could help with some research.”

They had found a case recently. Sam wanted to get his mind off the apocalypse, though Dean had tried to convince him otherwise but after taking a moment to think, he knew that Sam needed this. He needed an escape from it all.

Too bad the case turned out to have demons all behind it. Dean killed most of them while Sam was doing something somewhere else – he wasn’t that rusty after all, though it might take some time to be the ‘great meraphiel’ again.

So thank god they had found a ghost case, it was the least likely not to have demons connected to it (he hoped).

“Have you gotten any leads yet?” He continued to poke his microwaved sausage, it was depressing to just look at.

“Nope, everything out there is the stuff we already know. Her name and the murders she committed.” Dean hummed,
“Any connections between the victims? That could be something.”

“they’re all anonymous deaths with little to no detail. We’re stumped.” Sam melted into his chair, throwing his head back and groaning loudly, completely frustrated.

‘At least your mind is off…’ he checks Sam’s mind quickly, not wanting to invade his privacy, ‘That.’.

“We’ll find something sooner or later.” He would find a lead, ask around and threaten people when he could get a chance.

“Yeah well, I’m heading to bed. My laptops there if you need it- case related only, thanks.” Dean smirks as Sam heads off to his room. He stares at the laptop considering what to do, look into the case, or go for a drive.

Yeah, he was leaving.

He wished he could just fly there but he doubted he could. He keeps telling himself, ‘later, later i will’ look at his wings but little voices (there even before his life as Dean) in his head make themselves known.

He’d always tell himself that they’re healing so there’s no need to check, but he knew it’d be healthier if he did, they could be all over the place. But, it just hurts, you know? He’s not in the right state of mind currently.

‘There's a port on a western bay

And it serves a hundred ships a day

Lonely sailors pass the time away

And talk about their homes’

He used to make and play songs with the angels, he even used to dance with humans and play weird looking instruments with the poor folk.

The saying ‘voice of an angel’ is a great compliment when hearing one sing, though it sounded horrible to the human ear, Dean was always told he had such a Beautiful voice though he had stopped when Michael made a comment about it.

                                                                    “You’re a fine girl!” he sings along.

The sailors say, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl’ (you're a fine girl)

“What a good wife you would be!”

‘What a good wife you would be’ (such a fine girl)

“Yeah, your eyes!” ‘How's it go again?’

‘Yeah, your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea’

He turns the radio knob.

‘Despacito

Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito’

*off*

He should’ve grabbed his mixtapes.

He drives around in the dark, the streets empty ominous the occasional car speeding past baby. He stops the Impala at a beach, right next to an old light house. He grabs out his journal and sits on the lid of his baby,

He writes in his journal.

When his memories came flying back he bought a new, huge book to write about monsters, myths, spells, sigils, potions, stuff like that.

When you’re as old as Meraphiel, you learn a lot about almost everything. The good, bad, and ugly stuff.

He spent most of his time drawing. He wanted it to be realistic, as clear as they were in his mind, every wrinkle and scar shown.

He’d only add the important information nothing that was already known to most hunters. He had a page on vampires and that was just on different ways of killing them that no hunter knew.

He struggled to write about this current creature though, as he knew almost nothing about them. But it’s not as if anyone – any human – knows what they were, and he hopes that they never will

*****

A familiar sound of footsteps gets his attention off of his frustration.

Dean pretends to act normal. He’s reading a book on myths and a half empty beer is next to him.

He spares a glance at his brother as he walks in, hands full of old books.

“No need for those, I’ve solved the case.” Sam lets the books fall into the clear space on the table with a slam, “you’re kidding me, you know how hard these were to find?!”

“Well, we gotta salt and burn, whatever you found-“

“Already did it, case,” he shuts his book, “done.” Sam looks at him confused, making the older brother also confused. “Where the hell did you get the time for that? It’s not even noon! I can’t even remember the last time you actually used my laptop for things other than porn.”

Dean didn’t just get his memories back, he was back to his angelic self- Meraphiel. So that meant he didn’t sleep, and well, he got bored after the drive in baby. Did a bit of research, knew immediately what the creature was, killed it and came back. It wasn’t a salt and burn like Sam believed. “I got bored.” He grins as bobby walks through the door.

“Well, I’m going to bed then. It’s 12am, I suggest you do the same.” Dean looks at his watch, he wasn’t sleeping. The brothers go to their respective rooms and while Sam goes to sleep, Dean lies on his bed, googling shit on his brother’s computer when he hears sounds coming from the kitchen. Bobby’s asleep, so is Sam.

He senses a dark presence.

He grabs out his gun, and carefully makes his way to the living area. He keeps the lights turned off as he takes slow steps right to the doorway to the room. He can see a figure scavenging through a bunch of drawers. His gun makes a click as he’s suddenly next to them, holding it right to their head. They freeze but keep quiet, the only noise their breath.

“Turn around.” He moves out of arms reach as they follow the command. He turns the light on to see a woman with pure black ees.

She’s wearing a leather jacket over a worn out shirt, dark blue jeans with a knife on her belt.

“Who are you and why the hell are you in my house?” She slowly lowers her arms from where they were raised, “keep the hands, raised, I can see your knife.”

She scoffed, “This isn’t your house you douche bag and that piece of junk isn’t going to do anything on me, but you know that now, don’t you?” She smirks, “And don’t worry, I wont gut you, just don’t feel threatened by you.” he hates her already.

His nose scrunches as his grip on the gun tightens, it won’t kill but it sure will give a sting. “Yeah, and I don't care.” She gets pissed as the gun is still pointed at her face.

“Are you really going to kill this innocent girl because of lil ol’ me?” She tried to blink innocently but it was a horrible attempt.

“She’s probably dead already.” She rolls her eyes.

“Well,” She sighs, “What’s gonna happen now?” He doesn’t respond.

She continues, “Well I’ve got a suggestion. How about you let me go and I don’t kill you?” She smiles

He almost laughs, “Honey, that ain’t gonna happen.”

She purses her lips, “Well, I guess you’re right.” She jumps him when he shows the second bit of being unfocused.

She definitely would be taking skin down with her nails if he were human, he can see the slight confusion –annoyance– on her face.

He hesitates but he’d rather get this over with.

His eyes glow blue as he smashes her down the ground and is now on top of her.

Her eyes are wide as he puts two fingers onto her temple.

She tries to fight as Meraphiel slowly lets his grace run through her.

*slam*

He immediately stops and she gasps.

Sam comes stumbling through, half naked and hair looking like a bird's nest.

“Dean, stop!” He runs over and goes to help –the demon? Hold on, what’s going on?

“You okay?” he asks while helping her up.

“What-” She winces, rubbing her neck, “What do you think?!” She growls.

Dean quickly stands up, wondering who he was going to yell at first.

She gathers herself and looks at Dean, she goes tense – she’s scared.

She points, “You never told me-” Dean glares at her, “... That your brother was living with you!” Sam raises a brow.

“Otherwise I would’ve been very polite.” She does the innocent eyes again, still horribly done.

“You going to explain to me why the hell you’re helping a demon?”

“she’s not like them Dean, she wants to help us.” Dean laughs.

“She doesn’t want to help us, she’s a demon! don’t be an idiot Sam!”

She waves her hand, “Right here dude.” Dean glares at her. “Shut up, bitch.”

“Woah, Dean, calm down, okay?”

“Calm down?! You’re being besties with a demon, one of our worst enemies at the moment and you’re beleving all the bullcrap thats coming out of her mouth!” Dean storms out, he can’t deal with this, he’ll just yell at Sam later.

It’s quiet for a while. He’s outside looking at the dark sky, stars scattered all across – beautiful. He remembered making those, He carved his name into a few of them. Though he never had good handwriting, hmmm.

20 minutes later he hears the door open though he doesn’t care to look.

Someone sits down next to him.

“So you're an angel, how come I couldn’t sense that?” She genuinely asks – creatures could see creatures.

“Cause’ i didn’t want you to.” She gives him a puzzled look. “I was known for being a mischievous sneak.” She smirks to himself, it sure made some situations easier.

She wraps her arms around herself, the dim light highlighting the bruises on her knuckles.

“You don’t act like any angel, from the stories I’ve heard.” He fiddles with his shirt.

“I’ve changed a lot since then, plus i just wear a mask for most of the day.” A human mask.

She hummed, “Well… what do you say? You don’t kill me and I keep your secret a secret?” She looks at him.

“Or I just kill you now…” He considers it, “Fine.” He doesn’t shake the extended hand, he only walks inside and locks the door behind him.

Damn demons.

Chapter Text

He had found a lake in the middle of nowhere so no one could see him.

He undressed himself, neatly folded clothes to his side. He knelt down beside the edge of the lake and placed a finger into the green water. He let out a breath as he closed his eyes, letting his grace cleanse the water thoroughly.

A blue light seeped into the water from his hand and in a matter of seconds, it took over the whole little lake. He grabbed the beaded necklace from his pant’s pocket and grabbed onto the cross and whispered a prayer onto it.

Tossing the necklace in, he watches the results. The water starts to shine bright and glistened as the blessed necklace took into the filled lake.

He tested the water with his bare foot: not too cold, not too hot, not too heavenly.

Just perfect.
He walked in it until the water was up to his waist.

Meraphiel could already feel the effect.

The little scars on his body were healing and all the aches started to disappear almost instantly. He sighed in relief and closed his eyes. It was surprising, how easy it was to pull this off.

Now, time to do what he was here for.

Meraphiel relaxed his body and went still. He let out ragged, nervous breath before he let his wings spread out behind him. He didn’t look at them but even moving them hurt. He fights off the pain and screams in his throat as he forces himself to spread out his wings, the bottom feathers in the water.

He screamed as he went full body into the grace filled water.

No second didn’t hurt.

He felt every move, every ache and sting, but he knew it would be worth it - he needed to get this over and done with.

He swims to land and lets himself lay on the grass, back facing the hot sun, bare ass out. Water drops falls off of him as he huffs and groans, the pain not having subsided yet.

He hesitates on whether he should look at the wings - now that they are hopefully healed. He counts to three…

One.

Two.

Three…

They are… ok. The feathers are drenched so he can’t tell the colours of the individual feathers but the wings looked not so broken. He spreads the long appendages out as far as he could to have a good look at them.

He smiles at them - they were completely fine. All this stress about his wings and it took a couple minutes for them to look as good as new, well, he hopes they are.

Now all he needed to do was get them groomed. Shit, he didn’t think of that.

Bobby watched as the eldest Winchester brother slams the bedroom door behind him. He looks at Sam from across the table. 
“Do ya think he’s been acting weird lately? I can’t be the only one who’s noticing it.” Sam looks up at him from his computer - he was always on that damn thing, Bobby just wished it was something non-hunting related, you know, like games or porn - like Dean would do, or the old Dean.

“Hmm, yeah- maybe, I don’t know.” Bobby rolls his eyes, You’re a real help.

Dean had been acting (according to Bobby) weird for a couple days now: Every once and a while the older hunter would see the kid scratching his back, pulling a face, or moving around uncomfortably, looking like he was trying to itch something but just couldn’t get it. He looked uncomfortable, irritable - he definitely was.

And not to mention how he was always in his room now - door shut of course. Bobby didn’t care nor try and snoop when the two brothers kept each of their room doors shut but with how Dean was behaving he was getting suspicious. He just hopes Dean is alright - if he isn’t, he sure as hell wont be telling Bobby anytime soon, damn stubborn man.

“Whatever, just keep an eye on him.” He sips his whiskey, why was there always something going on? Always something wrong.

****

He immediately put a sound proof spell onto his room as he shut the door behind him. After a quick memory check of him locking the door, he gives himself the all clear to take off his shirt,

Long and wide wings spread out behind him. They were completely healed and dry but that wasn’t what bothered Meraphiel - looking at them wasn’t something he hated, he loved his wings. The problem was he needed them groomed but he just couldn’t reach or concentrate with using a brush with telekinesis - and it hurt like hellfire.

It didn’t feel right doing it himself, he wished he had an angel to help him but of course, he didn’t.

He tries to reach his arm back but alas. “Aguhhh.” He screams in frustration. He couldn’t stand the feeling, it wouldn’t just go in the background, it was like a loud ringing sound that wouldn’t shut up or be pushed away.

He kept on trying and trying but the obvious soon made the angel stop his tries and accept he couldn’t do it even if he tried. The worst parts he couldn’t get even a finger near - this was horrible.

He needed help somehow.

****

It was the apocalypse and Bobby knew that the angels were trying to stop the seals and he knew that they would visit sometimes but he wasn’t expecting Castiel to show up panicked and walking towards the stairs to the basement - saying not to follow him.

Bobby was getting sick and tired of not knowing what the hell was going on around here but he felt that no one else knew either.

Castiel placed a spell on the door behind as he came inside deans room.
The door was now unlocked so he walked in.

There Dean was sitting in the middle of the room - he looked completely fine, didn’t look hurt, just as good as he always looked.  
He stands up and smiles awkwardly. “Uh- I thought this would be better- I moved most of my stuff to the corner.” He gestures his arms out to the wide space of the room minus the now messy

“Why am I here Dean? What is the “emergency” you prayed to me about.” He finger quotes.  
Dean drags his foot across the floor. “Well… well before i say anything I need you to promise - swear, you will keep it a secret. I can’t let anyone know, I barely even want to tell you.”

Cas hesitates, he shocks himself that he is even considering it.

“Why would I do that, Dean? I cannot keep things from the angels at this time-“

“Please.” Dean begs. Cas’ eyes go wide. It was that voice, that tone he said it in- sounded exactly like the pleas the human muttered in his dreams that Cas used to occasionally watch over until Dean had caught him in the act.

Cas moves his head, sighing heavily. “Of course, Dean. I will keep my lips shut just this once.” Dean breathes out a breath of relief - Castiel can see the wave of relief himself, he wanders just how big this is.

Dean braces himself, “Ok, I’ll just show you I guess.” He readies himself, counting down in his head.

Wings suddenly spread out behind him in all their glory - beautiful, messy wings.
Castiel places a hand onto the wall for suppport - he was completely shocked.

It was weird to see another angel have such a strong emotion like shock to something.
His mouth was agape as he looked back and forth to Dean and the long wings. Meraphiel feels a great amount of suspense as the other angel slowly walks towards him.

He tries not to make a sound as he touches the inner part of his feathers.
“You need help with grooming.” Meraphiel can’t even keep his eyes open as Castiel rubs his hand across his left wing- It felt so good, so right.

“I will help you Dean- if- that’s even you’re real name.” He pulls his hand away and goes to take his trench coat off. Meraphiel watches as he throws it off to the side.

“But, you have to explain me how you have wings- or if you’re even the man that I thought you were.” He knew he would ask, doesn’t mean it wont be any harder.

“Sit down- It’s a,” he snaps his fingers and two largely-sized pillows appear before them, “long story.”

Castiel does just that.

Dean sits facing him first so Castiel would fix the feathers that bothered him most. Castiel immediately goes to fix the feathers - no time to waste, he knew how painful and uncomfortable it can feel.

“I was getting a beer a couple of months ago and bam- a bunch of memories I didn’t know i had came flooding through my brain. Turns out I’m an angel and I accidentally stole Michael’s swords’ body - well, I didn’t take over it, I was just doing my own stuff until I was being held by John and Mary, fresh and nude. Then I felt my memories and grace start to fade, become out of reach and then… Well, I was just Dean.”

Castiel listens along, interested and intrigued. Meraphiel tries not to wince at some of the feathers having to be plucked out. Meraphiel has only had his wings groomed a couple times in his lifetime - only because he had too - and it was never this good. This was such a relief and Castiel was so gentle. It was like a massage.

“Since then I have been keeping what happened and who I really am a secret, well, until now as you know. You must understand why, if you were in my position.” It was so quiet in the cellar and the energy of the room was so calm, he hoped it stayed that way.

“That depends. What angel are you, Dean Winchester?” His voice was so strong, Meraphiel liked the way he said his name.

He could just lie, but what if the angel found out?

“My name is Meraphiel.” Cas’ hands froze, staying where they were as he looked into the hunter’s apple smith green eyes.

“Meraphiel.” He breathes out. He feels slight fear growing in his stomach as he waits for more of a response.

“Oh my dad. Meraphiel,” He says, astonished, “My heaven, It’s you? It’s been… a long time.” Meraphiel smiles, hoping he means it in a friendly way, he coudln’t deal with another angel hating him.

“Ay. It has been a long time, Indeed, Castiel. It’s been so long, but I’m glad we’re speaking again.” He says what he has been wanting to say for a long while now- ignoring the elephant that might start to join them.

Cas smiles, “I’m helping an archangel groom their wings. I’m finally… Finally seeing you again- It, yes, it’s good to see you, Meraphiel. I’m glad you’re not what most believe you to be- Dead.” Good, if there is suspicions of an Angel going against God, he might not be the first one that pops into the angels’ minds.

“Same here- still breathing. Now, help me with my wings please, I can’t wait any longer.”

****

They’re both sat on Dean’s bed, Meraphiel having his wings out on display as Castiel awes over them  - a spell locking the door shut beyond the strength a human can do anything about.

“Black and dark emerald feathers with highlights of speckled gold,” He smiles, showing teeth, “Beautiful. Not as long as mine but just the right size, I suppose they’re larger in your true form, as most?” Meraphiel nods.

“I actually have many wings in my true form- I got damaged in my meat suit so they were never damaged or needed grooming, not yet anyways,” His mouth twitches, “Maybe I can show you one day, if you show me yours.” He wanted to see Castiel’s true form, he wandered how big it was, what it looked like, how many wings or heads he had.

“Maybe one day, Meraphiel.” Meraphiel liked that, that’s not a no.

He’ll make sure to bring it up later.

Chapter Text

“We’ve got to be careful, Dean, we can’t get caught!” Dean shrugs his brother’s worrying comments off, he could do it, he was dad’s little solider.

“Don’t worry, Sammy, this is easy - watch.” He tries to sneakily put musli bars into his pockets. He brings Sam closer to him and puts a few little snacks into his little pockets.
That was done, now he just needed to get past the shop owner. Dean didn’t like stealing - especially little Sammy. But they both despised the only food John would buy, it was horrid and tasted as poorly at it cost - got to save the money for alcohol of course.

He didn’t steal much, only for Sammy.
He grabs Sam’s hand as he goes to exit the store, trying to pull an innocent face. He is almost out when a thing next to the door starts beeping. SHIT!

The owner looks at them from the register and notices their bulging pockets. “Hey, what’s in your pockets!” Oh boy, Dean couldn’t deal with being caught.  
He tightened his grip onto Sam’s hand, a signal he had made before, and started to run.“Hey!” He heard from behind him but he kept running, Sam just behind him.

They ran till they couldn’t and took a break knowing they weren’t being followed anymore.

Dean looks at his brother, all scared and puffed.

He ruffles his long hair, “It’s alright, Sam, they wont find us. Note to self, don’t go to that shop again.” Sam smiles. 
“Ok, Dee. We should probably get back before dad gets home.” He agreed, the sun would be gone soon.

It took another ten minutes to get back home. The day was still on but there was already a car in the driveway, a Chevrolet Impala 67’ - John’s car.
Dean swore to himself, they were in deep shit. He wished they were tall enough to reach the bedroom’s window.

He opened the door, hoping his dad was passed out drunk or asleep. “The fuck did I tell you about going out alone!?” Dean should’ve known better, he was never lucky.
Dean goes to speak but is cutt off by Johns glare at their pockets. “What’s in your pockets.” 

He gulps - he can’t lie or else he’ll get into more trouble, either way he is in deep shit, at least he can get Sam off the hook.

“We were hungry so we got little snacks from a little shop - We, I*, don’t like the food you make so I took Sam with me to get food.” The look on his dad’s face hurt him - probably more than it would if he gets physical. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispers with his head hanging. Sam doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand, his grip only getting tighter.
“Sorry doesn’t mean a god damn thing! I make you food, it doesn’t have to be the best. I know it’s bad and that’s just because it’s rushed cos i don’t have the time to be cooking, cleaning, and looking after you two- And come to think of it, I don’t recall given either of you money.” Shit.

Sam makes a noise and Dean tries to prepare himself for whatever reaction is to come. “I didn’t teach you to steal things, did I? Especially something you already have. I give you food, i don’t have to pay for things you want to do, all I need to give you is a bed, food, and a roof over your head!”

He huffs but retreats back to his chair, “Be grateful and don’t let it happen again.” He grabs his opened beer bottle and unpauses his show. Dean was surprised it didn't get physical since he was obviously drunk.

Dean quickly goes to his and Sam’s shared room.
He shuts the door behind him, putting a chair underneath the door handle, in case John decided to not be as nice.

“Dad was pretty calm today, Dean. You don’t need to lock the door.” Dean ignored him as he tucked Sam into his bed properly - how a parent would.
“Go to sleep Sammy.” The younger brother whines.

“But it’s not bed time, it’s still bright outside.” he points at the window, light blaring through the window.
Dean pulls down the curtain, “Doesn’t matter, besides, we gotta wake up early tomorrow.” 

He strips down to his underwear and snugs into his own little bed. 
“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight.” Dean didn’t know when, but he felt a little human crawl onto his bed hours later and whisper “goodnight, dee” into his ear. He smiled, “Goodnight, Sammy.

******

“So, what happens now?” Castiel asked. Now that he knew the secret identity of Dean Winchester, he wandered what would happen now. What will Meraphiel do? Will he help him? Will Meraphiel stab him in the back with his angel blade - come to think of it, did he even have an angel blade?

Dean flips through his journel, stopping mid-way to a blank page. 
He responds, “What happens now is you keep your mouth shut, and leave me alone for the time being.” The other angel pulls a face.

“Go away? I haven’t seen you in centuries - you let me groom your wings! Dean. You’re just going to cut me out?” Dean looks behind him and looks into his eyes - there was something there but Castiel couldn’t figure out just what.
“Bingo! Lovely talking with you, Castiel, but I need to focus on other things and I can’t have you distracting me at this time.”

“Why? What are you so deeply focused on that cannot have me be a part of?”
Dean sighs. “Tell you later, for now I cant say as I need to get things right.” Dean takes his attention back to his book, Cas taking as a hint to leave.

He does just so.

Meraphiel frowns. He know he’s pretty much giving Castiel the cold shoulder but he couldn’t get distracted, and besides, he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself but not talk to the Angel when in his presence.

The creation of Leviathans.

The monsters made before the angels. 
The creatures that are trapped away for a good reason, in a dimension no human can get into. 

The leviathans are a species that have unimaginable amounts of power, even stronger than the protectors of heaven and earth: the angels. No one knows why they were made, only god and possibly Metratron.

They were evil - not a single one pure of heart. They killed for fun, their egos bigger than their hunger.

If they were ever to be freed, it would be close to zilch of a chance of stopping them.

How do you kill an entire race when the protectors of it could be killed in an instant?
That’s why only angels know where they are, if the knowledge was in the wrong hands, we’d all be done for.

***

“You’re smoking again.” It wasn’t a question, Dean knew that.

He could smell the stink of it, wasn’t even trying to hide it. 

“And? You’re keeping secrets again, nothing surprising.” Sam glares at him though Dean isn’t phased, he looked like an angry golden retriever.

“Wah, wah, keep your glares to yourself, man who's friends with a demon chick. so you do you,” He stands up from his chair and goes to the door, “I do me”

Sam looks at him, “Where are you going?” Meraphiel sighs.
“For a smoke, ‘I do me, you do you’.” He smirks. Not needing to look back to know the face his brother is pulling at him.

He sits down on Bobby’s chair and pulls out a cigarette.
He’s too distracted to sense he wasn’t alone. “Hello, Dean-“

He speaks as he turns to look at the angel, “Holy crap, you are creepy as shit- warn a guy next time, Castiel.” He can’t help but feel a bit happy that Cas was here, though he wouldn’t show it.

Dean raises the cigarette to his lips.

He lets out a puff of smoke, “You’re already back, thought I told you to leave me alone?” He looked guilty, ashamed - making Meraphiel feel guilty. 

"I’m sorry, Dean- Meraphiel. I just wanted to spend more time with you, talk about- you know, angel stuff.” He practically blushes as he grabs a chair from out of nowhere and takes a seat facing Dean.
“Yeah, and I’ll braid your hair and paint your nails while we do it,” he jokes, “Come on now, Cas, as if you want to talk to me.”

He wanders what jokes Cas does or doesn’t understand yet- that’ll have to change.

“Whatever you want, Meraphiel, I just want to spend some time together - away from the other angels.” So he admits why. interesting…

“Why would you want to be away from them? I thought a war was going on.” He wanted to slap himself and cut his tongue from his mouth, why couldn’t he just be nice?
he hesitates before lowering his head. “They all hate me, I’m only lucky that i am of use to them or I don’t know what would have happened to myself.” He’s embarrassed - rightfully so.

He never thought that the other angels would’ve hated an angel like castiel: He never did anything wrong, never challenged anyone, never started any wars…
“Look, Castiel, I’m not really in the caring mood at the moment, just- go away.” Maybe he could be mad, considering what happened all those years ago.

“Why do you hate me, Meraphiel,” He outright says, “Why are you already trying to push me away? I just want to talk to you- You don’t have anyone else to talk to about your angelic problems nor any friends to tell it to if you wanted to-“ He stops himself, noticing that maybe he isn’t saying what is best at the moment. 

Dean doesn’t answer, just looks away to in front of them to a cloudy sky.
He lets out a puff of smoke, asking himself why he even cared about what was just said.

“Smoking is bad for you, Dean.”
“I ain’t human, Cas.” He grunts, jaw clenching. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

Castiel continued to ask and question, “Do you like the habit of it or is it a way of getting back to your father who wouldn’t let you smoke-“
“Would you shut the fuck up?! N-no. That’s not the reason.” Was it?

“It’s just… fun.” he starts to doubt himself. 

“My apologies, Meraphiel. You musn’t care about that now, i should remind myself of that you are not Dean Winchester anymore.” Why did hearing that hurt?
Not Dean Winchester- of course he was Dean Winchester. But- not… but also yes, but not. Who the fuck even is Dean? Why was everything so hard to understand and figure out- Jesus.
He takes out his packet of cigarettes - only three left. He considers it and decides to go through with it.

“Here,” he offers a cig to the angel, “take it, You’ll like it.” 
He smudges his used cigarette into the ash tray, freeing his hands, and watches as cas fails to hold it properly. After watching the sad act in front of him, Dean grabs Cas’ hands and adjusts them to hold the cigarette. he looks into the others eyes — probably longer than he should — and pulls the arm up to Cas’ lips. 

He grabs his lighter and watches the angels reaction- he struggles for a bit but gets the hang of it.
“I guess it’s not because of your dad after all, Meraphiel. it's... relaxing, distracting. what an odd thing.” He curiously looks down at the burning cigarette. 

It wasn’t a cool, exciting moment, not at all. Probably boring to read about but Dean knew he would remember this moment, even if it was so simple.
He thinks of a song, knowing that it would suit the moment as the sun begins to fall and they smoke their cigarettes until there is none left to smoke.

He looked over at Cas and he almost looked sleepy. 

Maybe he could stay after all.

Chapter Text

he knew he might have been a bit harsh on Castiel, but it was for this exact reason:  He was such a distraction.

He needed to find ways to stop this apocalypse, find out why he got his memories back, why he was pushed back into existence, not spend time talking and having actual fun with his new and only friend.

There were so many things he could do with Castiel and sure, they weren’t nearly as important, but it was so much fun! And he loved just getting to talk about everything that happened before he fell. And so many things had happened since then, he just wanted to know it all.

But he knew he had to stay focused, he could be the only person to help stop the apocalypse, he couldn’t let himself get distracted.

He looks at the bottle in his hand, “I think i drank too much of this alcoholic liquid. I feel weird.” Seeing all the empty bottles on the floor, he was probably right.

“You’re acting weird too.” He surveyed. “Ugh, yeah- maybe we should call it a night. You can sleep in my room, I’ll stay up and research.” 

Cas grumbles, “I don’t sleep, Dean. And… is that your secret or whatever it is that you’re trying to hide? That you’re writing a book with highly confidential information on various creatures, even on monsters hunters don’t know about, like mermaids and leviathans.” He hiccups.

Meraphiel wondered how he was so spot on and how was he so clueless but also not at the same time?

He shrugs it off and decides to just help his friend. “C’mon Cas, we’re going to bed. I don’t care if you “don’t sleep.” It’s fun and I don’t want to hear you blabbering on and on throughout the night -all drunk and shit.”

He doesn’t even have to teach Cas how to sleep, a few minutes after laying him on the bed, he was out. 

He huffed to himself, ‘that was easy’. 

Now to the not fun part: researching.

Funny how an angel had to research, things were strange.

****

How do you stop an apocalypse when your whole species is trying to make it happen?

He needed to tell Bobby and Sam somehow but how would he had found that kind of shit out? Someone like Cas wouldn’t just outright tell him that kind of stuff- only angels and demons knew why. He could get Cas to confess, rebell against the angels publicly to the two hunters and he, Dean, would have to act surprised. 

That sounded good, he could try and do that.

I mean, Cas didn’t want the apocalypse to happen, he had told Meraphiel himself that. But what if he is lying? What if he is just using Meraphiel to make sure he doesn’t act out and to get close to him so he can just stab him in the back and get Michael his vessel?! No- surely not, Cas wasn’t like that. Was he?

He had various plans in mind but all he needed was a way to get one of them going. He couldn’t do it all by himself, he knew that, but he was a fucking archangel, he was by no means weak, and he didn’t need a helping hand just yet - he didn’t think.

While Sam was in his room, Bobby in his and Both asleep, Meraphiel was up and scheming, writing down notes on multiple book pages. His hair was all messy with coffee all around him- not tired, just the feeling it gave was thrilling at times, no taste was needed.

He had drawn sketches of different people and animals, many linked to each other yet many he didn’t know how they would be of any help to get his plans past the planing stage.

The best one was to team up with Castiel and any angels willling to rebel. but if that couldn’t work, he’d most likely would need to tell his family. 

He wrote down a few reasons why that would be a bad idea:

. That would be so akward :(

. They wouldn’t react well.

. Never seen the same agan.

. Treated differently

. Always be cautouis 

Nothing ever works out, he might be disowned by his family- but at least they’d still be alive.

He wanted to tear all his work into little pieces. Why was this so hard? 

He could just hear John’s voice in the back of his head, disappointed that he couldn’t do one thing by himself. Critiquing what he’s done, how he’s been treating Cas, his brother, Bobby…

“I don’t care, I’m not Dean anymore, I’m not human. You’re not my father, you mean nothing to me.” He whispers to himself - To the john in his head*.

He should just call it a night. 

Go to sleep or watch some tv: the angels aren’t even a quarter done with opening the seals.

He turns his head to look at the angel, snoring softly in his deep slumber. He can’t help but giggle, it was such a strange sight.
 He comes off his chair, one arm balanced on it as he stares at Cas’ unconscious form. He wanted to go to bed, but it’s already occupied. 

Except for the right side of the bed.

‘Castiel wouldn’t mind.’

He slowly makes his way onto the bed and manuevers himself away from the angel, giving him some space.

He turns away from Castiel and pulls the blanket over himself.

“Goodnight, min venn.” And for the first time in god knows how long, enchonian comes out of the fallen angel’s mouth. 

*****

“What is your name, angel?” He had never seen this angel before, it must be one of the newest God had created. He bet this was going to be the last time there were new angels, Heaven was getting crowded.

Four eyes look at his, shingling blue with new grace. “Castiel.” 

He inspects the angel’s appereance. He was wearing some blue armour with golden jewellery all over his form, each arm painted with angel symbols.

He looked uncomfortable.

“What a fitting name, Castiel. My name is Meraphiel. I’m pretty sure you should be with the others right now, am I correct?” He slowly nods.

“I want to meet others, look around at this place, not stay in a group and learn about rules.”

“Emotion is weakness, youngling,” he places a hand onto the young angel’s shoulder, “I know everything might be very interesting right now, but i assure you that you will get to look at whatever you want later, but only if you just stay with your teacher and learn the rules of this place. You don't want to break the rules here little one.”

Castiel considers it and nods.

He really didn’t want to get in trouble. “Okay.”

Meraphiel smiles, “Good. I’ll help you back.” He stars to walk, expecting the angel to follow yet he stays put. He looks behind, “Follow, angel.” 

He walks to the older angel and matches his pace to be the same. 

‘Strange thing.’

The angel was far out -a good walk away. He would just fly there or teleport, but he didn’t think the angel was anywehere near strong enough to handle that, no matter what kind of angel he will turn out to be.

“Why is your grace different from the others, Meraphiel?” Oh he hoped the adult-child angel woudln’t talk the whole way.

“I am an archangel, my grace isn’t just different like every angel but it has it’s own unique glow. Father did that as a way to show off your rank if you were an archangel.”

Cas’ head tilts, confused. “What’s an archangel.”

“You would know these things if you weren’t running off from class, Castiel.” He didn’t intend to have a tone but he supposed the angel needed to get used to it, most angels weren’t nice - they weren’t supposed to be.

“Why do all the older angels look so different from me and my group?” 

“You’re not fully grown yet, Castiel. Once you reach a century or so, you will develop your true form and angel form, but not until then. I got mine a couple thousand years ago… so when i was 200.” He looks to the right.

“I can see your teacher from here; run along and make an excuse- he’s got a temper.”

Castiel bows his thanks, “Thank you Meraphiel, I shall listen to what you have said. I can’t be getting in trouble and i definitely don’t want to disobey father.” He runs to his group as Meraphiel watches him.

What an odd angel. He wouldn’t last a day as a fully developed angel. 

Pity.

Angels weren’t made to be scared. They weren’t supposed to feel empathy for nothing but angels, and only little at that.

But as the centuries went by, it became clear that angels not able to feel emotions was untrue. However showing emotions was a sign of weakness -It was shameful. 

Meraphiel knew he was different to the other angels. 

Every other angel hid themselves easily and kept themselves together. But he almost never could. He would fight in battles, building up his reputation as the strong soldier, the mischievous uncaring archangel. But he always felt such terrible waves of guilt or happiness at times. Though he would always hide the fact, he’d find somewhere that was empty and have some alone time. Did other angels do this? He doubted it. In those times, he felt mortal, like a human.

But now he had an excuse. He was Dean and Meraphiel now, practically combined. Dean wasn’t an angel, he was an emotional wreck and only pushed his emotions down so he could look like a soldier and a person to be proud of… That sounded familiar.

Maybe he was just making excuses to not accept what might be the truth. He could just push this all to the back of his mind so it would be even worse later. Because that’s later, and not now.

Yes. He’ll let later Dean deal with it.

He looks at the depressing meal in front of him. The colours bland and the food all over the place. Bleh! 

“Just eat the food, Dean. ‘Stuff’s expensive now.” Bobby didn’t know what was getting into Dean, he wasn’t a hormonal teenager anymore - why was he acting like this?

Dean groaned and slouched in his chair, he didn’t want to eat food, even if it did look good, which it definitely did not. “I’m not hungry yet.” He excuses. Bobby looks up from his newspaper.

“Now I expect to hear that from Sam, not you boy.” His eyes roll, why was that such a surprise to everyone? He looked at his watch for the 3rd time now. The hand was pointing at the 3 but he was supposed to be here when it was at the 2. 

Where was Castiel, goddamnit?

Meraphiel was known for many good things, but patience wasn’t one of them.

Screw it.

He got up from his seat and left the house, ignoring Bobby’s calls. 

He was going without Cas.

His fingers curled and he turned his hand to the house, placing a invisible spell over the home. You’re never safe in an apocalypse, safety and precautions by humans just aren’t going to cut it, at least enough for Meraphiel to be satisfied.

“Fucking angels, fucking humans, fucking… F-food. I hate it here, i hate everything, i just want to eat a fucking burger!” He stomps his foot, making a crack in the pavement. 

He cringes, “My bad.”

He looks around himself cautiously, making sure no one could see him.

A shadow grew behind him as his wings came out of hiding.

No longer uncomfortable they were, no longer heartbreaking to look and feel at.

With a breath, he took off.

***********

The water of the pond was bright blue and crystal clear. 

It was beautiful. 

What better than to get in the water nude? With a snap of his fingers, Meraphiel’s clothes were neatly folded next to him.

He dips his toe into the water, checking the temperature. ‘Ice-Cold. Perfect.’ He walks into the lake until the water reaches his collarbones. He lets his wings come out and get soaked by water. 

Wings were a thing to be looked after thoroughly in heaven. They showed other angels your rank and attracted some, you couldn’t have them messy and dirty.

It also felt like a horrible itch when dirty, not just when ungroomed. Of course this water wasn’t right yet. Meraphiel whispers words of Enochian into his balled hands as a swirl of light appears in his palm.

He closes his eyes as he puts his hands under the water letting the spell takes its course.

The water now was pure.

As he gets more comfortable in the water he starts to wash his face and soak his hair in the water. It was like getting that sip of water at 2 in the morning - refreshing. 

He starts to sing in his true voice in enochian. The birds and little creatures close start to run away from his voice, not being able to hear it for all it’s beauty, only sounding like a high-pitched, loud ear ringing noise.

It was centuries ago now since he last sang a song, even before he was banished. Looking back now, he was ashamed he let Michael’s words get to him but they always did, and so quickly at that.

Wasn’t singing supposed to relieve stress? Not, it just made it worse, because all Meraphiel could think about at this moment was fucking Michael this and Michael that.

He gets distracted and overwhelmed by thoughts as he starts to sing quieter subconsciously. ‘Fucking Michael. Fucking Castiel. When did i turn so fucking soft!?’ He was a tough, practically emotionless archangel back then, wasn’t he? 

Meraphiel pulled a face as he continued to sing with his eyes now shut as a eerily feeling crept across his back to his neck. 

His voice gets quieter, “Hello.”

His neck snaps back as he goes dead silent. He looks at Castiel with grace practically coming out of his eyes.

“You’re voice is beautiful. I’ve always favoured that song over the rest-“

“Don’t do that.” Cas’ head tilts at the demand. 

“Do what?”

“Sneak up on me.” He glares at the clothed angel. On that thought, he starts to feel insecure of his nudity, though Castiel couldn’t see his body through the blue water.

“Go away.” His wings move closer to his body under the water as he looks away from Cas.

“We’re nearing the last few seals, Meraphiel. And Michael is starting to show his presence in heaven again.” That gains Meraphiel’s attention.

“Again? When did he stop showing his face?” Cas stared, as if trying not to react.

He shrugs, “Probably a little after you were banished- I’m not too sure. I didn’t really care.” There’s a hint of hatred in his tone but Meraphiel understood why; he knew why someone like Cas could dislike Michael.

Cas pauses for a moment before starting to undress himself but Meraphiel snaps his fingers and his shirt re-buttons itself and trench coat is back on his arms and shoulders.

“Wha-“

“No! You are not coming into the water nude!” He exclaims as Cas looks at him with an expression of a toddler.

“But you are naked, why can’t I be naked?” Dean huffs.

“Because,” He grits his teeth, “I didn’t think you would show up.” Cas leans down onto his knees and sits down on the wet ground, grass messing up his pants.

“I’m sorry I was late, but I had to help heaven. I don’t want to but I have to.” He looks at Meraphiel and smiles. “But we’re going to stop the apocalypse, so it will all be fine.”

“We have no idea how.”
“We will eventually. Have faith, friend.”  Dean wanted to say what he wanted to say, but he isn’t in the mood for this, he just wants to relax. He doesn’t care if it might be selfish to relax when the world was nearing the start of the end of the world.

“Yeah. Sure.” Where did having faith ever get him? 

No where.