Chapter Text
The bunker was finally quiet for once, Sam had taken off on a solo-lead, something about Witches in Colorado. And Dean was alone nursing a bourbon while mindlessly scrolling through the witch lore in Colorado. He is so used to the fluttering of wings he didn’t even look up when a dash of wings stirred the air, but his heartbeat spiked anyway.
‘‘Cas,’’ he said the name easily as it slipped off his tongue without looking up from the laptop ‘‘You’re back.’’
‘‘..I am.’’ the voice more gravely then intended
‘‘We have a door you know..’’ still focused on the bright screen on his lap and the bourbon in his hand
‘‘I didn’t think you’d mind..’’
Dean smirked slightly ‘‘Don’t take it personal. I just about jump out of my skin every time you do that.’’ He finally glanced up and took notice of what a mess Castiel was, Dust in his hair, coat torn, some Grey ash smudged against his face. But it wasn’t the trench coat that caught his attention. It was the wings. they shimmered faintly behind him, barley there like smoke clinging to light. And they looked wrecked.
Dean sat up straight but hid his concern. ‘‘You look like you got tossed though a chimney..’’
‘‘I was injured. The fight was… complicated..’’
Dean squinted ‘‘You bleeding?’’
‘‘Not visibly’’ Castiel said. ‘‘I do need a favor, i cannot reach all my feathers and they need to be cleaned..’’
Dean blinked ‘‘And?’’
‘‘And i was hoping you’d help.’’
Dean let out a sharp laugh ‘‘You’re asking me to give your wings a sponge bath?’’
Castiel’s expression didn’t change. ‘‘Yes.’’
Dean scrubbed his Hand over his face “Man I’m Gonna Regret this .”
they were in Dean’s Room, because Apparently that was a lot Easier then dragging Cas through the whole bunker with feathers dripping in dirt.
Dean filled a bowl with warm water, grabbing a clean cloth like it was no big deal. He didn’t say much, and Castiel didn’t either.
‘‘Alright,’’ Dean muttered, standing behind him. ‘‘I have no clue what I’m doing, so if i rip out some angel feather that takes a hundred years to grow back, you can’t yell at me.’’
‘‘I won’t.’’
‘‘Yeah we’ll see.’
Castiel extended his wings- huge and battered, hanging lower then Dean thought they should. They looked more like something a bird dragged through war then a divine being.
Dean took one look and whistled low. ‘‘You sure you’re still flying with these?’’
‘‘Barely.’’ Castiel said.
Dean hesitated, then dipped the cloth in the water. ‘‘Okay here it goes.’’
He touched the edge of one wing, slow and tentative. the feather twitched under his fingers.
Cas flinched.
Dean pulled back. ‘‘What? What’d i do?’’
‘‘Nothing. It’s… sensitive.’’
Dean rolled his eyes, trying not to let the way Cas said that word mess with him. ‘‘Great. I’m giving an angel a bath and he’s fragile. Just perfect.’’
But his touch was gentler after that. Slowly gliding the rag through the soot and dirt along with some celestial gunk that Dean didn’t want to think too hard about.
‘‘You gotta stop letting yourself get wrecked like this.’’
‘‘I was protecting someone.’’
Dean didn’t answer.
He just kept working, jaw tight, gaze locked on the feathers. His hands didn’t shake- he didn’t shake. But there was a tension in his shoulders that wasn’t there before.
After awhile the silence got heavy again. Dean cleared his throat.
‘‘Not to make this about me, but i feel like i should get a medal or something. Not a lot of guys sign themselves up for angel wing detailing.’’
‘‘You didn’t have to.’’
‘‘Didn’t say i did.’’ Dean snapped back, then winced. ‘‘I mean- i just-.. never mind. It’s fine.’’
Castiel turned his head slightly, catching Deans eye. ‘‘..Why are you doing this?’’
Dean shrugged, ‘‘You looked like shit.’’
‘‘That’s not an answer.’’
Dean rolled the cloth is his fingers. ‘‘Yeah well not everything has to be a heart to heart Cas.’’
‘‘I didn’t ask for one.’’
Dean finally stopped. letting the cloth drop into the bowl with a soft splash. his voice was lower when he spoke again.
‘‘I just.. I don’t like seeing you like this, Alright?’’
There it was. Out in the open. Raw and too real.
Cas looked at him for a moment. ‘‘You care.’’
Dean huffed, ‘‘Don’t make a whole thing out of it.’’
‘‘I’m not’’ Castiel said. ‘‘I just… didn’t expect you to say it out loud.’’
‘‘I didn’t,’’ Dean snapped. ‘‘You said it.’’
Cas smiled faintly. ‘‘…’’
Dean stared at him for a second to long, then glanced away, pretending to busy himself with wringing out the cloth.
Cas turned fully now, wings folding slowly back in. The light of the room somehow softer now.
“Thanks.”
Dean picked up his beer, not looking at him. “Yeah. Whatever. Don’t bleed on my bed.”
Cas smiled wider this time “understood”
End of part one.