Multi Fandom One Shots And Short Stories

(DESTIEL) Damaged but Beautiful

Dean watched the blade recede and the light fade, the hellhound slumping down onto his chest. Pain flared through his slashed ribs and he gasped.

And then the weight was gone and someone - Cas- was kneeling beside him. "Dean," he breathed. His eyes were wide as he took in the damage.

"Hey, Cas," Dean gasped, trying to wrap his mutilated arm around his middle. He shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth against the pain running through his entire being.

"Let me help." Dean felt two fingers on his forehead and then a rush of cooling relief. He groaned as he felt Cas's hand hover over his torso and arm, beginning to heal those slashes as well.

He didn't want to move anymore, he honestly just wanted to sleep. But then he felt a hand slide under head and lift his upper body from the ground. Dean groaned a sluggish, "Thanks, Cas," and cracked his eyes open- only to have them shoot open as he took in the sight of the angel before him.

Extending from Castiel's back were two enormous black wings, easily reaching 11 feet across on either side. They were extended slightly, hovering over Dean's body as though shielding him from something. As they moved slightly, Dean noticed that they shimmered with colors, from blue to purple to a deep emerald, the moonlight aiding the holographic effect. The longest of the feathers trailed on the ground around them. There were large patches that were bare of feathers, looking as though they'd been ripped out. The wing tips looked damaged, like they'd been burned.

Dean was speechless! Even with the missing feathers and burn spots, Cas's wings were still the most beautiful things he'd ever laid eyes on.

Cas noticed him staring and looked over his shoulder, thinking something might be behind him. When he saw nothing amiss, he turned back to him and asked, "What is it, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth and then closed it again. He truly had no idea what to say; he was in awe. Finally he whispered, "Cas... Your wings!"

The wing that hovered over him pulled back slightly and Cas's eyes widened. "You can see them?" He asked. When Dean nodded, both wings pulled themselves close to Cas's back and he hunched his shoulders, looking away from Dean's awestruck expression.

"Cas," Dean whispered, "They're beautiful!" Because they were! Nothing Dean had ever seen on Earth could compare to the beauty that was an angel's wings, especially when they were Cas's.

"They're not," Cas said, "They're damaged."

Dean tore his gaze away from the huddled shape of his wings and looked into Cas's eyes. "Cas, your wings are the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my entire life," he said sternly, "And they may be a bit dinged up, but- Cas, they're wonderful!" He whispered the last part, his breath stolen once again as a shiver ran through the wings, causing them to shimmer.

Cas still wouldn't look him directly in the eyes. Dean was astounded that he honestly seemed to believe his wings were ugly. Then he did something that he'd dreamed about doing for years, but never plucked up the courage to do.

He pulled Cas into his arms, holding him close against his chest. One arm went under the base of his wings, while the other was placed between Cas's shoulder blades, right between the two massive appendages. Now that Dean was holding the angel, he noticed that he was shaking ever so slightly. His whole body was tense, as though waiting for some horrible revelation.

Dean rubbed his hand over Cas's back in little circles. He couldn't feel the shimmery feathers, but he could see the way they relaxed and how Cas let them fall away from their tightly wound position next to his body.

"They're beautiful, Cas." Dean whispered, over and over, "Damaged, but beautiful."

The two sat in that dusty attic for a long while, Cas just letting Dean's hands roam over the spot where his wings would be if they were manifested fully. Were they really beautiful? How could they be? They were damaged, imperfect. But was there a chance that Dean- the most important human in Castiel's life- really thought that they were beautiful? He let out a shaky breath and leaned further into Dean's chest. Maybe...

Eventually, they heard a car pulling onto the dirt road that led onto the farm. A door shut and Sam's voice carried through the empty farmstead, "Dean! Dean, where are you?"

Dean sighed and stood, pulling Cas up by his forearms, for once disappointed to hear his brother's voice. He looked down at the hellhound's body in disgust, "Don't come back, you son of a bitch."

Cas huffed a little laugh at that and it made Dean feel a spark of happiness in his chest. He'd made the usually stone-faced angel laugh! It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Dean and Cas walked together to the top of the staircase just as Sam burst through the door, gun raised. He must have seen Jim's body, as his voice rose in panic, "Dean! Dean!"

"Sammy! We're up here!" Dean called. He heard Sam making his way through the house, approaching the staircase. He started walking down the stairs, but was stopped by a hand on his sleeve.

He turned to face Cas, who hadn't yet stepped down onto the top step. And then he was right there, their chests almost touching, and Cas's lips were on his and- and it felt right.

Of course, Sam chose that moment to turn the corner that led up to the attic. He crowed with laughter, finally yelling, "About freaking TIME! Mom owes me $20!"

Dean pulled away and looked up at Cas, who had one eyebrow raised as if to say 'what are you going to do about it?'

Grabbing his tie and ignoring Sam, who was unable to support his own weight anymore, he yanked Castiel in for another kiss.

As all three of them made their way out to the Impala, Jim's funeral pyre was nothing but ashes. Cas and Dean were hand-in-hand, Sam was trying (and failing) to hide his giggles, and Dean realized something: He hadn't fallen head over heels for his best friend. He simply couldn't remember a time that he hadn't loved his angel.