Chapter Text
Dean slipped back into consciousness. He immediately took in his surroundings. One arm was still tied behind his back and his ankle was badly twisted from trying to escape from the chair he was tied to. The goddess was lying on the floor in a pool of her own blue blood. The room was a mess and probably never going to be the same again. Dean shook his head trying to stop it from spinning, of course that only made it worse. He looked around the room searching for Castiel who had been knocked out only minutes before Dean killed the goddess. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. The tan trench coat lay crumpled in the corner of the room, the only indicator that Castiel had been in the room at all.
"Cas?!" Dean yelled. "Cas!"
There was no response. With his free hand, Dean grabbed the knife from his boot and focused on cutting the ropes that held his hand and feet, setting himself free. He tried to stand, wincing from the pain coming from his twisted ankle.
“Cas!” Dean yelled as he took off down the hall.
Dean searched the house from top to bottom looking for his angel. “Dammit, Cas!” Dean said to himself as he heard a crash come from the kitchen. He rushed in finding a broken cookie jar and what appeared to be a 2-year-old child, with a man’s white dress shirt falling well past his feet. The toddler held a cookie in each hand, oblivious to Dean’s entrance.
“Hey there bud…” Dean approached the toddler carefully hand still on his knife, ready in case it was a baby monster.
“Hewo, De” Dean was taken aback. How did this little… thing… know his name? The child turned around big blue eyes staring into Dean’s green ones. A head of jet black hair, quite like raven feathers, ruffled as if he had just woke up from a nap, sat on top of his head. Dean stared at the small child in shock.
“Cas?” The little toddler looked at Dean, then went back to his cookies.
“Yes, De. Iss Cas. Wanna tootie?” Cas offered one slobbery cookie to Dean.
“N- no thanks, Cas. How about we go back to the bunker?”
“Otay, De. Bat to de bunter.” Dean smirked at the angel’s new speech difficulties. Cas took a few hesitant steps forward, before stepping on the edge of his once fitting shirt, and fell flat on his face. The inevitable happened, and Cas burst into tears as Dean rushed to his side.
“Shhh, shh, it’s ok buddy, you're alright.” Dean said as he carefully picked up the wailing angel and awkwardly bounced him on his hip. He hadn’t done this since Sam was a baby and he was a bit out of practice. Soon Cas’s tears began to slow and his sobbing became small little hiccups in between breaths.
“De?” Cas asked through teary eyes as he looked up at the hunter.
“Yeah, Cas?” Dean asked, still bouncing the angel on his hip.
“C-can you take owff my shiwt?”
“Why?” Dean asked, his eyes full of confusion.
“B-becauwse I need to stwetch” Cas says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.
Dean looked at the toddler not understanding the request. “Stretch what, Cas?”
Cas looked at Dean, confused as to how Dean didn’t understand.
“My -ings” Cas said already fumbling with the buttons. His little fingers too uncoordinated to take off the giant shirt.
“Your what??” Dean asked in his best whisper-yell.
“-Ings!” Cas said.
“Did you just say... wings, Cas?” Dean asked, quickly removing his hand from Cas’s back, still holding the toddler’s arm to keep him upright.
“Uh-huh. Dey’s ouchy” Cas whined, now trying to lift the still buttoned shirt over his head.
“Ok ok buddy just hold on.” Dean said as he placed Cas on the floor, kneeled beside him, and began undoing every button. Dean made a makeshift diaper out of the shirt, wrapping it around Cas’ bottom knowing very well what could happen if his butt wasn’t covered. Once freed of the shirt, the angel stretched his wings as far as they would go. It was only about two feet on either side of his small body, but still impressive to Dean. Until this point he had only seen shadows of the miraculous appendages. They were as raven black as his hair and just as messy, and to be honest, they looked really uncomfortable from Dean’s perspective. Black feathers were scattered all across the wings, some were falling out, and most were completely upside down.
“Uh” Dean said. Slowly reaching out and then quickly bringing his hand back to his side, he wasn’t sure if it would be okay to touch Cas’ wings.
“S’tay De.” Cas grabbed the grown man’s hand and brushed it down the pitch black feathers. “Oo tan toush um”
“Uh thanks Cas, these look pretty uncomfortable, mind if I fix them for you?” Dean asked as he smoothed the silky soft feathers under his hand. Cas nodded as Dean combed through the feathers correcting each one individually. Dean marveled at their softness. The downy feathers were like touching nothing, so soft Dean could barely feel them at all. Castiel’s flight feathers had not quite developed all the way, so Dean made sure to be extra soft and gentle with those. Cas’ thumb found its way into his mouth and he leaned against Dean’s chest. After finishing with the first wing, Dean shifted his weight and started on the other one. By the time he was finished with both, he looked down at the sleeping form cuddled up against his chest. Cas had one little fist curled tightly around Dean’s plaid shirt and the other was still in his mouth.
“Alright buddy let's get you home.” Dean whispered with a fond smile on his face as he picked up the little angel and wrapped him in his arms. Of course on his way out Dean had to grab Cas’s iconic trench coat, which he used to bundle the sleeping boy in. Dean made sure to close the front door of the house on his way back to the impala. He got the little angel all tucked in in the backseat, double checking that the seatbelt was securely fastened, and started the long haul back to the bunker.