Chapter 8
He Dreams of Flying
It was either publish early or late. You're welcome. Last chapter, R&R please!
Castiel stood close to both the bonfire and Dean, staring it down like it held the answers to life.
Bobby and Sam had eagerly agreed when Dean had suggested the fire, and at first, it was fun. They roasted marshmallows (actually, Dean still had some marshmallow in his hair thanks to a food fight he and Sam had gotten in to near the beginning), told ghost stories, and generally had a good time. The warm crackle of the fire was dancing heat across their skin in a delicious way, and the night stars twinkled above them. Castiel watched as a stray ember came off and slowly began to reach for the sky, going higher and higher, dragging other embers up with it. Eventually, it looked like all of the embers were fading stars up above, red stars. It was one of the most beautiful things that Castiel had ever seen, and he felt so serene.
That is, until Dean reminded him of why they had actually had the bomb fire.
The leather book slipped out of his pocket and firmly into Castiel's hand, and he looked up at Dean in partial confusion. Castiel looked down and their conversation came flooding back to him.
"So what do you suggest we do with the journal, Einstein?" He asked. Dean paused for a moment, looking it over.
"We could burn it." Dean said. Castiel let out a light laugh, looking at Dean's serious expression before his smile slowly faded.
"You're serious?" He asked, frowning. Dean took a moment to gather his words before he nodded his head.
"She was a terrible mother. All having this is doing to you is dragging you down. You deserve better than this, Castiel." He said, his eyes shining with sincerity. Castiel looked down, unable to form the right words for the situation.
Burning something felt like more than just burning it. It felt like it would be a symbolic gesture, something that he would remember doing for the rest of his life. It felt like it would be his way of letting the idea of his mother go and moving on with his life, acknowledging that she was wrong and saying he was going to forget about her all together.
It wasn't all that that was his problem, though.
It felt like burning her journal would be burning his only chance at having a part of her. He needed to think though; Did he really want a part of a woman who abandoned him for something that he couldn't help?
"I-I'll think about it." Castiel said flatly. Dean nodded his head, he wasn't going to push the issue any more. If Castiel was going to do it, he was going to do it.
"We'll have a bonfire tonight. You can decide then." Dean said. Castiel nodded. That should be enough time, right?
They shared a brief, serious moment, their eyes silently communicating. It was time for Castiel to decide, and he was no closer to making his decision than he had been earlier. He shook his head in attempt to clear it, closing his eyes tightly.
Bobby didn't fail to miss the exchange. He slowly stood up, folding up his camping chair and clearing his throat. Castiel and Dean's heads both snapped up at the sound. "I think Sam and I better get heading off to bed now. You two take as long as you need." He said, patting Sam's back. Sam knew well enough that this was not a time when he should argue, so he nodded his head and stood up, grabbing his chair and pulling it up into his arms. He almost tripped walking back to the house, but he managed to make it in one piece. He looked back at the house to see Castiel and Dean silhouetted by the glow of the fire. He bit his lip and shook his head, going inside. He could tell that whatever happened out there tonight was going to be important.
"You do whatever you feel like doing." Dean said softly. Castiel nodded his head, looking down at the old book in his hands.
How many hours had he spent crying over it? How much time had he spent hating his wings, hating himself to the very core, just because of those words scrawled on a page? How many times had he tried to push people away--Dean included, just because he felt like the words in this book defined what he was truly and fully?
He clutched the cover, closing his eyes and breathing out of his nose.
When his eyes next opened, it was to watch the book that he had thrown sail into the fire.
He felt with a twisted kind of satisfaction as the flames overtook the leather, seeing how they clung to the fabric and caressed the dried-out pages, forcing it to erase itself, eradicate the words from history. He gave a self-satisfied smirk and turned to Dean, happiness radiating through him.
"I'm not going to let what she thinks hold me back any more. I want to be free with you." He said. Tears still sprung to his eyes, tears with a mixture of anger at her for holding him back so long and happiness that he had finally broken free of his chains. He let loose, feeling the tension drain from his body as he let the tears flow.
It was no surprise when a couple of seconds later, Dean's arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, his lips moving to kiss away some of Castiel's tears.
"Please don't let this hurt you any more." He said, his voice deeper than usual with emotion. "You're too beautiful for that."
"I'll try." Castiel whispered, laughing a little. Dean's arms pulled him even closer, and Castiel rested his head on Dean's shoulder. A hand rubbed his back comfortingly, stroking his feathers through his shirt. He made a content sound in his throat and snuggled in deeper, smiling into Dean's shirt. He really did have the best boyfriend ever.
After that, the summer was in full bloom. Dean and Castiel were living together now, so they spent almost every waking minute in each other's company. Sam was with them some of the time too, and had taken to inviting his friend Gabriel over to hang out. Castiel was surprised that they got along with Gabriel's fun loving nature. They got into fights sometimes, (usually, those ended with Dean slamming Castiel against the wall and kissing him with bruising force, or the other way around) but for the most time they were happy together. During the day they would sometimes drive to the Roadhouse and hang out with Jo and Ash, whom Castiel had learned were actually fairly good dancers. The pair of them flirted with either him or Dean or sometimes each other, (Castiel didn't eat jealous because he knew it wasn't personal; it was their personalities) with playful winks, nudges, and laughs. It wasn't long until he considered them both two of his closest friends-- and to think, just months ago he never would have considered having friends. He loved them more than he could have imagined.
On nights where they wanted to watch the stars and couldn't make it out to the ocean point, they put on the projector on Castiel's ceiling and looked up, hands lightly grasping each other as they scanned the ceiling, pretending it was the sky. For them, in that moment, it was the sky. Their own personal sky with their own stars, their own constellations, and their own stories.
Dean was better, at coming up with the stories. Castiel had never been one for creative writing, he wasn't bad at coming up with things on his own. Dean, however, was absolutely brilliant. All he needed was to see a shape in the stars, and his mind would work faster than his mouth would. Sometimes, the stories would have happy endings, and sometimes they wouldn't. You never knew which way a story would go until the very last minute, and that's what Castiel loved about them. Dean would never admit to being creative, but he was.
At night, Castiel and Dean would wait until Bobby was asleep and one would sneak into the other's room. It was usually Dean taking the trip to Castiel's, (after all, while they couldn't see their favorite stars from Castiel's window they could still see the stars) but Castiel would occasionally get impatient and walk up to Dean's room. Castiel would then wrap his arms around Dean's, and Dean would allow his wings to encase their bodies. Cas thought it was quite nice; when he wanted to be held, Dean would hold him. When he wanted to hold, Dean would let him. Their relationship had no set dominance, and it made him feel secure knowing that Dean considered them equals.
Often times in the morning, they would sneak out of the room whispering and trying not to make creaks in the floor as they walked, hoping not to wake up or alert the other two occupants to their close proximity through the night. Every once in awhile, Bobby would be waiting for them and give them a lecture on staying in their own bed and insisting that next time there would be consequences, but Castiel knew that there wouldn't be. Bobby's small smile that he tried to hold back at the end of every lecture was enough to tell him that.
About halfway through the summer, Castiel and Dean had found that it was much easier to keep clean if they cleaned each other's wings. Dean would bring up a bucket of warm, soapy water and a wash rag, along with a huge pile of towels that they would lay out in the floor. Castiel would sit down with his shirt tossed to the side, typically in his pajama bottoms so that his regular pants would keep dry. He'd enjoy the feeling of Dean's fingers slowly working on his feathers, spreading them apart and gently scrubbing the dirt. He melted, turning to butter in his hands every time. He knew that this was one of those things that he would only let Dean do; anybody else touching his wings like this would feel much too intimate. It required a great amount of trust to allow Dean to touch his wings, as they were the most fragile part of his body. After Dean was done and Castiel's wings no longer held their moisture, (Castiel dried them off by going out the back door and flapping them, he was actually almost as good as Dean with his muscles now and had accidentally lifted his feet off the ground a couple of times by flapping harder than he had meant to) Castiel and Dean switched places. Dean preferred that Castiel used the oil he naturally produced instead of the soap, claiming that it kept his scent "woodsy" and he didn't want to smell "like dish detergent" (not that he didn't like the smell, he loved how Cas's wings smelled) so Cas worked with that, sometimes using just a splash of clean water if Dean had somehow gotten a burr in them. Castiel loved the feeling of Dean's silky smooth feathers in his hands, running along his skin. He thought he'd never get enough of the feeling.
One day, while Castiel's wings were being cleaned, Dean suddenly froze in place.
"What's wrong?" Castiel asked after a minute, concern going through him. Dean hardly ever stopped; he had a great deal of energy.
"Well, you're molting." Dean said flatly. He shifted, moving his hands off of Castiel's wings and out in front of him, showing Castiel the broken feather before him. Castiel stared at it a moment, not quite understanding what it meant.
"What's that?" He asked, crinkling his nose. Dean laughed a little, shaking his head.
"Well, I guess since you've never really had your wings out before now it's never happened to you before, but..." Dean started to explain. He took a moment to choose his words, his head bobbing side to side for a moment while he chose an accurate description. "It's like when you lose damaged feathers and your body replaces them. Birds do it. I do the same thing every year. I'm not due to lose feathers for another two weeks, but who knows, maybe this year will be different?" He asked himself, frowning.
"Oh. So, I'm going to lose my unhealthy feathers and gain ones better suited to survival?" Castiel asked, ruffling up his wings in excitement. Dean laughed at his scientific choice of words and nodded his head, going back to running his fingers through Castiel's wings.
All in all, after the cleaning, Castiel had a pile of feathers to his right that vaguely reminded him of the inside to a blue pillow. Dean was finally done and he gestured towards the pile, giving a low whistle.
"Dang Cas, you lost a lot of feathers. I usually only lose about half this many." Dean said, nodding at the pile. There were actually a couple of Castiel's primary feathers that had fallen out, causing his wings to look like a child's smile when it was missing a tooth. These feathers, of course, were a little longer than his torso. Dean picked up a couple of them and put one on either side of his head, making it look like he had blue feather antennas.
"Oh my god, stop it." Castiel said, reaching out to grab his feathers. Dean dodged his attempt, flapping his own wings out and wrapping them around his body to protect himself.
"Oh yeah? How about next I make a feather boa?" Dean snarked, laughing behind his wall of feathers. Just as he stopped, one of his own primaries came out, slowly dropping to the floor. Castiel's eyes followed curiously as it went, and he bent down to pick it up, nodding as he inspected it from all angles. It was still smooth to the touch and smelled like Dean, all musk and leather. Dean stared at the hole like he couldn't believe the timing and Castiel just smiled wider.
"I can see that you're not making a feather boa in there." He teased, laughing a little. Dean moved his wings apart and smiled sheepishly, setting Castiel's feathers down back in the pile.
During summer vacation, Bobby had to work. He had three kids to support, it wasn't like he could just leave them to go hungry. Since the only thing Bobby had done for the last ten years was hunt, that was really the only thing that he was interested in doing.
Hunting alone was dangerous. You were probably up against multiple people, sometimes multiple gangs of people, and without back up you were screwed if someone caught you. So, hunting being something Dean had been helping with for the past two years, Dean volunteered to tag along with Bobby.
"So you're going to be gone for how long?" Castiel asked, his brow furrowing. Dean sighed, looking down at the desk.
"Bobby already did all the research and tracked the guy from here, so we should only be gone a couple of weeks at most." Dean promised, looking up. Castiel shook his head in disbelief.
"Why do you want to do this? Why would you like something that had consumed your childhood?" He demanded, raising an eyebrow in question. Dean sighed and looked down again, taking a moment to breathe before he straightened up again, looking Castiel in the eyes.
"I like the job because I'm helping people, Cas. People would die without these guys getting caught and I'm the one who catches them. Well, me and Bobby. That gives me purpose." Dean said. Castiel could see the sincerity shining in his eyes and he nodded his head slowly, understanding what Dean was saying. He could get that, saving people, hunting criminals, it was sort of the family business.
The thing was, Castiel was part of the family now.
"Okay, fine." He relented. "When you come back though, you're teaching me how to hunt."
"Excuse me?" Dean said, his eyebrows raising. Castiel didn't respond, simply meeting his eyes and standing his ground. "You want to learn how to hunt?"
"You said that hunting alone was dangerous." Castiel said, speaking slowly as he chose his words carefully, "If you plan to continue hunting to support us when we're older, you're going to need to have a partner."
"That's not going to be you." Dean said automatically. Castiel felt anger rise within him; how dare Dean try and be such a hypocrite? What, he was allowed to put himself in the line of fire but Castiel wasn't? He didn't think so.
"Yes, it is. I hate to bring this up, but you know what happened to your mother. They didn't go after her father because he was too dangerous to them. If she had been actively hunting, they wouldn't have dreamed of touching her because they'd know that she probably knew how to protect herself. Do you want what happened to her to end up happening to me?" Castiel demanded, his eyes burning with passion. Dean's face was blank at this point, his mind working as he processed what Castiel had just said. Actually, in a disturbing way, it did make sense. But that didn't mean that he wanted to see Cas out in the field any more.
"Fine." He finally relented. At least if Castiel was his partner, he could keep an eye out for him. Castiel tried to he'd his surprise at winning the argument so quickly, nodding his head. "As soon as Bobby and I are back from the trip, I'll train you in hunting."
"Do you promise?" Castiel demanded, not quite getting just how easy it was. He was afraid that Dean would go back on what he said or find a way out of it. Dean recoiled a bit, like he was hurt.
"I never break a promise." He said, nodding. Castiel nodded back and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and burying his face in Dean's neck, inhaling his woodsy scent and enjoying the feeling of the warm and firm body against his own. He heard Dean sigh too and return the gesture, giving Castiel a bear hug and just holding him for a little while.
Dean pulled away, hearing Bobby's motor start up outside. He sighed, knowing that having Castiel here alone would be hard on him. Luckily he had just had a visit with his father and the fridge was stocked, so he wouldn't have to worry about Cas having to walk anywhere.
Castiel suddenly leaned forward, crashing their lips together passionately. Dean made a choked sound of surprise in the back of his throat at Castiel's enthusiasm, but he returned it just as eagerly, pushing Cas up against the wall and placing his hands firmly on Cas's shoulders. They broke apart for a couple of moments--their movements becoming more frantic as Castiel reached around to run his fingers through Dean's hair, pulling him even closer. The honk of the horn caused them to jump apart, both of them panting.
"I have to go." Dean mumbled, resting his forehead against Castiel's. Castiel nodded his head and gave him one more quick peck before he released his hands, freeing his lover.
"Come back." Castiel said simply. Dean rolled his eyes, but he could hardly hide the endeared smile that came to his face. He grabbed his bag and walked out the door, running and jumping into the truck with Bobby. Castiel gave a deep sigh, feeling himself deflate. It would be boring here without Dean.
Of course, though, it wasn't as bad as he thought it was. He and Sam talked a lot, watched Netflix, played a couple board games... And while Cas was still afraid for Dean, the letters helped.
Aaaah, the letters. On the third day of Dean's absence, the small, crinckled up envelope arrived with handwriting that he so clearly recalled. A smile spread across his face and he excitedly tore it open, scanning the words eagerly.
It wasn't much, just a summary of the trip so far and a sloppy, awkward goodbye, (Cas got the distinct impression that Dean wasn't sure whether to end on, 'your friend' or 'with love') but it meant a lot to Castiel.
A new letter came four days in a row, and his face would split into a grin every time the mailman pulled in. They were getting longer and more comfortable each time, and Castiel would have written back if the return address hadn't changed every time a new one came in.
Finally, on the eighth day, Castiel heard the sound of gravel against tires. He dropped what he was doing, running outside eagerly to see Dean unloading a bag of what looked like guns. Dean turned when he heard the door swing open and he smiled widely, turning to look at his boyfriend. The bag crashed onto the ground and Dean walked over, taking large steps as he approached Castiel and wrapped his arms around his lover. Dean was dirty and sweaty but Castiel disregarded the fact, leaning into the hug and closing his eyes in bliss.
"I missed you." He whispered, hugging Dean as tightly as he dared.
"I missed you to." Dean said, returning Castiel's affectionate squeeze. He pulled back a little and kissed Castiel's forehead, breathing in deeply as if recommitting Castiel's scent to memory.
They reluctantly parted when Bobby yelled, "You two idjits get over here and help me with this crap!"
Time was hardly of the essence in training Castiel, but Dean acted like they could be catapulted into danger at any time. Castiel's training was long and hard as he learned the right way to hit, how to shoot a gun, (he didn't really see how useful a gun was until the target fell backwards like the quarterback had just tackled it) and how to use a knife. He also was taught how to escape every binding known to man; handcuffs, rope, wire, hell even a straight jacket (he decided not to ask where Dean had acquired such a thing). He and Dean had done hand to hand combat a couple of times, but that ended very quickly in a steamy kissing session on the ground underneath the large oak. Castiel thought it was probably his favorite of the training sessions.
Summer breezed by as quickly and easily as a leaf turns in the wind, and soon they found that school was glaring them down again. Castiel was a bit bummed out, for the first time actually not wanting to start school back up, but he appreciated the summer spent with Dean. Kissing under the trees and listening to Dean's music and feeling the breeze on his feathers, (which had, by the way, all grown back shinier and larger than before) and for once in his life enjoying being himself. Dean, well...
Dean was convinced that he was in love with Castiel. It wasn't that he felt he couldn't live without him, because that's not truly what love is. Romeo, had he truly loved Juliet, would have known that she would have wanted him to move on with his life and find a way to be happy without her. It's that, out of all of the people in the world he could choose to be with, he knew he would pick Castiel a million times over. It's that Castiel's smile made him smile too. It's that, even though he found Castiel attractive as hell, he would rather have a slow kissing session in the back of the impala with tender touches than the frenzied make out sessions that he had always preferred with other partners. It was that, over the last four months, Castiel had somehow managed to become the only person that Dean truly trusted other than his brother. Even Bobby didn't quite make it up that high.
Which was why he was pulling Bobby aside at seven o'clock in the morning. He had had to sneak out of his bed, (being careful not to disturb Castiel) and stumble numbly down the stairs to tiptoe into Bobby's room and reset his alarm so he would get up earlier. He had then snuck back out to the kitchen and sat at the table with the coffee pot running, inhaling the fumes and waiting for Bobby.
As soon as the coffee was done brewing, heavy steps stumbled out of Bobby's bedroom. He groaned, setting his hand on the table before walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a large cup of joe, then plopped himself down in the seat across from Dean, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"I'm not stupid." He announced, taking a swig of the burning hot liquid. He flinched as he burned his throat, but he was honestly too tired to care about a little heat. "I know that you reset my alarm, I'm the one who trained you to get in and out of rooms without people noticing. You can't pull that on me." Bobby said. He didn't sound angry though, so Dean decided to just come out with it.
"Okay, okay. I needed to talk to you." He announced, shrugging. Bobby waited silently, patiently, gesturing for Dean to continue.
Dean bit his lip. How was he supposed to say what he really wanted to? How could he put his feelings into words when he knew that there were no words to describe it? He gave a deep sigh, trying to find at least something to say to describe what he wanted, or rather, why he wanted it.
"I'm not getting any younger." Bobby said flatly. Dean glared at him for a moment before finally deciding to just go with what he felt like saying.
"I want to try to fly. With Cas." He added quickly. Bobby stared at him blankly for a moment, and Dean was afraid that it was a stupid idea. It would be dangerous and there would be heights and he would be terrified the entire time. Maybe he should just back out and forget all about it...
"You're terrified of flying." Bobby said after a moment. there was a small pause before he tagged on, "You're really in love with that boy."
"I am." Dean admitted. It was the first time he had said it out loud, and it just felt so good to finally admit. "I really, really am." He repeated, just to hear himself hear it. Bobby sighed.
"If you really want to do this, I know a place." Bobby said slowly. "But you should wake Castiel up now and go, because it's quite the drive, especially for Saturday morning traffic in that area." He mumbled. Dean nodded, urging him to continue.
Castiel woke to his lips being lightly pressed against someone else's, a hand coming down to rest on his shoulder. As he woke up, he slowly began to return the kiss, his eyes fluttering open as the lips pulled away from his own. He was looking up into the magnificent green of his lover's eyes.
"Good morning." He greeted, giving a small yawn. Dean shifted back to give him room and he sat up, giving a small stretch. He slumped back against the headboard of Dean's bed, and he smiled at his boyfriend. "To what do I owe the occasion?"
"We're going on a date." Dean said abruptly. Castiel's lip turned up just the slightest bit, curiosity burning at the back of his mind.
"Oh really? What kind of a date?" He asked. Dean looked over and raised an eyebrow as if to question Castiel.
"If I told you it wouldn't be as fun." He said. Castiel rolled his eyes before giving another large yawn and stretching his back, hearing several satisfying pops that made him shiver in delight. When his muscles felt relaxed, he threw the blankets to the side and swung his feet on to the floor, standing up.
"Well then, I guess the sooner we get started the sooner I find out." He said with resignation, ruffling up his wings behind him.
Dean walked over to the dresser and opened it, the drawer rolling out as his eyes scanned for the shirts with the wing space. He located two of them and grabbed them, walking over by the bed and stuffing them in the bag. Castiel was too preoccupied with stretching to question the move, so he was silent as Dean slung the bag over his shoulder and grabbed Castiel's hand, leading him into the hallway. They went down the stairs and passed the kitchen, (now empty since Bobby had went off to bed) and through the door, where the impala was sitting already started.
Castiel was still quiet as he and Dean climbed in, Dean leaning forward and pressing the radio for some music. Castiel closed his eyes again as they took off down the road, feeling the need for sleep outweigh the want to talk with Dean. He sighed as he began to drift off, his dreams filled with bright colors and shapes.
As he sometimes did, he dreamed of flying.
Dean looked over at Castiel's sleeping form and gave an amused sigh, shaking his head. It was probably good that Castiel was sleeping for some of the ride, it would be a long drive. Bobby had given him the shortest directions possible, but they would still be driving for a good five hours. Which gave Dean plenty of time to think.
Castiel meant so much to him. Castiel was his everything now, well, him and Sam. They were inseparable. Dean's eyes flickered again to the cute little thing in the seat beside him. Could he really put Castiel in danger?
He didn't want to teach Castiel to hunt. He hadn't wanted that, he didn't want Cas to have that life. But it would be unfair for Dean to be a hypocrite about this, and Castiel did have a point about his mother. Not only that, but if Dean let Castiel hunt, they could travel the world together searching for criminals, which had been Castiel's dream since he was little. Well, not the bounty hunting part, but the traveling the world thing.
As a bonus, Castiel was a good fighter. Dean had almost been overpowered himself a couple of times, and Castiel was good with weapons. He could take care of himself, Dean knew that.
Not that if they were ever on the field together Dean wouldn't be nervous as hell. It was practically his job to worry.
He would contemplate the issue several more times, he was sure, but for then he would just let it go. Today was supposed to be about learning how to fly.
At the halfway point, Dean woke Castiel up. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and only the elderly and the poor souls who had to work on Saturday were up. Castiel groggily rose from his slumber, smiling at Dean and leaning in for a small peck.
"So, is this it?" He asked, assessing the small diner that Dean had pulled up in front of. Dean laughed, shaking his head no.
"Of course not, this is just where we stop for breakfast." Dean said, getting out of the car. He walked around to Castiel's side and opened his door, Castiel rolling his eyes as he stepped into the morning air.
The restaurant was small and cozy, with pun-ridden signs hung all over the walls. Dean had stopped in a small town, so this place was a little hole in the wall joint that he thought to be nice. There were a couple of booths close to the door and a sign that declared you should seat yourself, and Dean slid into a booth close to the door.
When the petit blonde waitress asked for their order, Dean ordered for both of them. When she walked away, Castiel felt playful feet nudge at his from Dean's side of the table. When their food came, Dean insisted that Castiel try a bite of his omelet despite the fact that they had the exact same thing, and then they both exchanged bites by feeding each other. When they were standing outside the restaurant, Dean lied about Castiel having a piece of cheese on his lips and used it as an excuse to kiss him.
They climbed in the car, and Castiel was certain he was floating on cloud nine.
"You know, no matter how many dates we go on you still find ways to make me have butterflies." He mumbled, a little embarrassed at himself for the girly comment. Dean smiled broadly and his eyes shifted over to Castiel's for a moment.
"That's because you're the first person I feel like making it special for. I don't want to go on dates because I want to make out. I actually find myself just being happy by making you happy." Dean said. There was a small pause and he snorted. "Dude, look what you did to me, I sound like I'm straight out of a chick flick." He laughed. Castiel smiled.
"That's because you're a huge cheese ball. I didn't influence your speech patterns in the slightest."
"You're the one who started this whole conversation, angel." Dean retorted.
The rest of the two hour car ride was spent with whitty banter and playful insults, all of which laced by the sarcasm Dean had taught Castiel to use so well. It was light and easy, and Dean hardly noticed when they rolled up to the park gates.
Anxiety rose in his stomach like a title wave. He was scared. Afraid to fall again, afraid that Castiel would fall and get hurt, afraid that he would be too afraid to learn how.
No, he couldn't think like that. He was here with Castiel now, and the redwood trees that would hide their activities were stretched out before them. Dean reached out to hand the guard their admission and the impala rolled into the tree covered land.
"Is this the place?" Castiel asked, confusion lining his voice. Dean nodded his head, his eyes scanning the woods like they were going to disappear at any moment. It all felt very surreal. "What are we doing here?"
"We're going to learn to fly." Dean announced bravely, pulling off to the side and parking the car. He looked over to see the confusion riddled all over Castiel's face.
"We... We came here to fly?" Castiel asked, his voice revealing the shock that this caused him. Dean nodded his head, reaching back to unzip the duffel bag and grab the shirts that let their wings out. He tossed one at Castiel, keeping one for himself.
"Get changed." Dean said, gesturing towards the wrinkled fabric in Castiel's hands. Castiel stared at it like it was a foreign object for a minute before snapping out of it and immediately setting to work, taking off his own shirt and placing the one with holes on his torso, letting his wings out.
"We're really going to do this?" Castiel asked, his face breaking in to a smile. Dean looked over at him, at how happy he was, and he knew that he would regret it forever if he went back on his choice now. No matter how badly it scared him, holding either of them back would only cause more hurt. It was time to do what they were born to and learn how to fly.
He nodded his head and changed his own shirt quickly, stepping out of the car and walking over to Castiel's side, mimicking his own earlier actions by opening the car door for him. Castiel thanked Dean with a warm kiss, one that he couldn't stop smiling through.
Their hike into the woods lasted forty five minutes, Castiel and Dean both looking up at the massive trees every thirty or so feet. The tips weren't even visible, a layer of fog stopping them from seeing. Castiel decided that he was going to touch the top of one.
Finally, they stopped, Dean deciding that they were definitely far enough away. No chance anyone would see them this far out.
"Okay, this is the place." He announced, looking around. There was a space between the trees to the right of where they were that was just a little larger than the typical gap, so they headed over towards it. Dean leaned against a tree lazily as Castiel walked out to the edges of the space, unsure of what to do.
"How should I start?" He asked Dean. Dean shrugged.
"Go by instinct, I'm sure you'll think of something that will work." He said. Castiel rolled his eyes.
"According to most avian instinct, you would have learned when your mother pushed you out of a nest." He mumbled. If Dean heard him, he chose to ignore it.
Castiel slowly walked out to the center of the clearing, closing his eyes.
What did he feel like doing? Well, he felt like stretching his wings, so he did. He stretched his wings out and rose them up, his feathers naturally shifting into a position to grab the most air. His eyes snapped open again as he forced his muscles down, a pocket of air being caught by his wings.
Instead of being lifted high into the air, Castiel's feet went an inch from the ground before he immediately crashed back down, landing on his hands and knees. Dean snorted from his place by the tree.
"I think you have to keep flapping." He announced. Castiel resisted the urge to flip his boyfriend off and stood up, shaking the dirt from his coat, and he ruffled up his feathers, assuming the same position.
He knew what his mother would have seen right now, a monster learning how to embrace its dark side. He knew she would have screamed at him to stop. He knew that he would be called a freak by whatever man she had found instead of his father.
He knew that none of this was true.
He knew that he was born with these wings as a gift, and he intended to use them. He was going to soar with the eagle, his feathers were going to carve out shapes in the air as they carried him along, commanding gravity and keeping him up. He was going to fly.
So, with a determined set of his jaw, he flapped his wings, his feet raising just a little higher than before. Instead of freezing this time, he flapped again, and again, each time getting higher and higher off of the ground.
Dean watched, his eyes glued to Castiel as he rose higher and higher, the peace and control in his movements being one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Castiel had never looked more natural, more in his game. He wanted to join him.
Dean's wings slowly spread out beside him, and he let go of the fear. The only thing he could see was Castiel, the only thing he knew was that he belonged in the air beside him. He began to beat his feathers, his own wings beginning to lift him into the air like Castiel, his larger size giving him the advantage of going faster. Soon, he was level with his lover, and a couple of powerful strokes brought him right beside Cas, only the necessary space for wingspan separating them.
Castiel kept flying and Dean kept following, feeling the air and atmosphere give way as they flew, flew like they had been born to do nothing but fly. The air molded and shaped like butter, and Castiel surged forward, loving the feeling of his wings finally getting to do what they were made to do. He began to move his feathers the slightest bit, changing directions as he wove through the trees effortlessly, Dean following behind.
He didn't know how long he way flying, getting higher and higher, but he saw the branches just a couple of feet above his head and he searched for a break, finding one and then gliding through it. The skies were gray with clouds as they both broke through the forest canopy, the redwoods no longer towering above them but rather stretching out below. Castiel had probably never felt more content in his life as when his fingers brushed the tips of the leaves.
His happiness was short ended though. Soon, the clouds above them looked more and more ominous, and he flinched as the first drop of rain fell onto his left wing. He gave a deep sigh, his eyes scanning the trees until he found a nice branch to land on.
His legs wobbled as he landed, and he immediately had to crouch to keep himself from falling. He sat down and waited a few moments for Dean to settle down beside him.
"I guess we should probably go home now?" Castiel asked. Just as he spoke, as if waiting for a cue, the skies opened up and all of heaven poured down on them, the rain beginning to soak through his shirt and wet his wings immediately. Dean laughed, leaning back and facing his head up to let the drops land on his face.
"You know, had it been anyone else out there with me, I wouldn't have been able to do it." Dean said seriously, his eyes shining with gratitude. Castiel felt a warm and fuzzy feeling come up and threaten his manliness, and he attempted to brush it aside.
"I'm happy for you. I know that took a lot." Castiel said, looking over. Dean had stopped letting the rain fall on his face, and he was looking at Castiel with an intensity in his eyes he had never been capable of achieving before.
"That's the thing. It wasn't hard." Dean said. Castiel felt Dean's soft hands reach out and take his own, but he couldn't be bothered to look. "I just saw you, and I knew that where you were was where I wanted to be. Cas," Dean paused, giving a sigh and blinking hard, like he was trying to find the right words. "You're so much more to me than I ever could have hoped, and I know how stupidly cliché I sound right now man, but..." Dean stopped talking for a moment, and he gave a deep sigh. He looked away from Castiel, towards the leaves beside their hands, and then allow back up again, as if he had worked up the courage to say it. "I love you."
Castiel felt his breath catch in his throat. He did not hesitate to spit out his response of, "I love you, too."
There was a silence and Castiel felt joy rise up in him, a smile spreading across his face. Dean returned it, his eyes wrinkling and his teeth displaying proudly.
Castiel threw his arms around Dean's neck, sending them over the edge of the branch. The air woodshed around them as the descended through the air, their wet hair whipping around their faces as Castiel's lips found their way to Dean's. Castiel slowly extended his wings, slowing down their fall more and more as their lips worked together.
They broke apart after a little while, Castiel knowing that he had to make sure they didn't hit a tree. He was having some trouble keeping Dean up, (he was heavier than Castiel had anticipated) but they made it to the ground eventually, their feet landing softly on the forest floor.
"Let's go to a motel or something." Dean mumbled, not feeling like making the too-long drive back home. Castiel nodded his head; his muscles were sore and he could really use a nap.
"Okay. Race you to the car?" He offered, stretching out his wings. Hey, flying would be faster than walking.
Dean grinned wickedly and shook some of the water out of his own wings. Oh, it was on.
Later that night, both of them lay cuddled up in a small motel bed. Bobby had given Dean the money and Dean had used his fake hunter ID to get it. Dean and Castiel's legs were tangled up as they listened to the rain pitter-patter on the roof above them, clanging metallically as it pinged off of the metal storm drain outside of their window.
"Thank you so much for today." Castiel whispered, grabbing Dean and pulling him closer. Dean let out a contented sigh, nodding his head.
"We'll have to do it again sometime. When we're old and falling apart we'll still be sneaking off into the forest." Dean chuckled. Castiel laughed along with him, smiling broadly.
"So, I guess this means you want to be with me forever?" Castiel teased. Dean didn't respond for a moment, and the air got just a little more serious.
"Castiel, you're probably the only person on this earth I could really love for just you. Of course I want to be with you forever." Dean said gently. Castiel felt his breath hitch in his throat.
"I want to be with you too, Dean. Always." Castiel said. Dean smiled, and his fingers threaded in between Castiel's.
Castiel's soft skin and the warmth of his body were so warming and comforting. The knowledge that the person beside Dean would be there for the rest of his life. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief, letting tension drain from his body.
He fell asleep to the sound of rain and his lover's softly beating heart.
~~~~~~70 years later~~~~~~~~~
Castiel sat, his breathing heavy, the water rattling in his lungs and his hands shaking like they were leaves in a hurricane. Dean was in the bed next to him, in an even worse condition than his own. Sean's hand was resting in his lovers, his thumbs tracing the wrinkles and veins and callouses that he knew so well; the wrinkles and callouses that he had seen appear over the years. He gave a deep sigh as Castiel gasped in another painful breath. He knew it was painful; he himself had had a case of bad pneumonia last year. Of course, it never escalated to the point Castiel's was at now. No, Dean's only problem now was old age.
Of course, even with that, he knew that it was his time. He may have been a crazy old man just hallucinating, but he could have sworn that he saw an angel of death. Her name was Tessa, and she'd asked him to let go, but he'd told her that he couldn't. He couldn't let Castiel die alone, not when they'd already been trough so much together.
Dean and Castiel did travel the world as hunters. When they finally passed, it would be publicized that they killed three of their generations most wanted; they would be honored as heroes.
After that, Castiel had gone to college and gotten a degree. Dean had had enough of the constant death scares and fighting that hunting caused he and Castiel, (Castiel and him had almost pushed back their wedding because of it, which would have been a shame since Bobby, Sam and his wife Jess, Gabriel, Balthazar, (claiming several of their high school friends owed him money now because he called it) Ash and Jo were all flying in to see it happen. They had managed to get it together though, and the wedding was to this day the happiest moment of both of their lives.
Once Castiel had his degree in culture, he traveled the world with Dean, exploring the various physiological and social pressures of differing environments. Castiel actually had a best selling book on travel and some of his favorite stories from his times around the globe, (Dean had insisted he put the time he punched a guy in Hawaii for trying to flirt with Castiel after repeatedly being told Cas was married) and he had also written a science-fiction novel about humans with special adaptations. Nobody knew that the little boy in the first half of the book was actually himself, more specifically the story of he and Dean.
Of course, they would know. He had told his editor when the book went over so big that he had left a note in a locked safe in his and Dean's permanent Californian home (which was on the beach down below the cliff where Dean had first shown Castiel his wings) which held the information about him and Dean being those children, and the coroner who got his body would certainly provide the truth to that statement.
It didn't look like that would be too far away though. His breath rattled and his body shook. It took so much effort just to keep breathing. Castiel knew that no matter what he tried he was not going to make it today. That was okay. He had Dean by his side.
"Dean, Dean, are you there?" He choked out, coughing. Dean squeezed his hand reassuringly.
"Of course I am. Always." Dean said genuinely.
"Good. I love you." Castiel coughed out, still managing to flash a blinding smile Dean's way. Dean hadn't had the energy to fly for nearly ten years, but Castiel never failed to make his heart soar.
"Cas," he said, seeing the pain in his lover's eyes. He wanted so badly to not have to say it, to just hold on to Castiel for just a little bit longer, but he knew that would be cruel. Castiel had been through enough, it was his time to go. "You can let go now."
"So can you." Cas pointed out, coughing again. Dean sighed, running his thumb again over Castiel's veins.
"I'm not letting go until you do." Dean said, actually almost quoting the words he had said to Tessa. Castiel rolled his eyes, but he felt his resolve waning. Even without the diminishment, he felt fluid sloshing in his lungs now. He didn't have much longer either way.
"You know," he breathed, sitting up a bit, ignoring the muscle creaking as he did so, ignoring how much effort that simple action took, "I always said I wanted to grow old with you. I think we did pretty good, huh?" Castiel laughed, and it sent him into another coughing fit. His eyes widened in panic when he realized that his lungs were not getting as much oxygen as he needed, and he resisted the urge to press the panic button, to call for a nurse. Dean was right, it was his time to let go.
"You've always done good." Dean said, hearing the steady beating from Castiel's heart machine just beginning to speed up in the fear that he felt. Dean quickly lifted Castiel's hand up to his lips and kissed his lover's knuckles. "I love you." He said. His lover's heartbeat had always been a sound he enjoyed, but out loud, monitored by the large clanky machine beside him, it had always sounded off. Now, it really was off.
"I love you to. See you on the other side?" Castiel asked, not willing to say goodbye. Dean shook his head yes, his eyes shining with tears.
"I did say always, didn't I?" He asked. Castiel seemed content with that answer, because he closed his eyes and leaned back. His heartbeat sped and raced and sped, his body convulsing weakly a last few times before stopping, a loud and droning beeping noise causing Dean to cringe. Nurses rushed into the room, but they didn't even try to save him. They had all seen this coming for awhile now.
Dean felt numb inside. He wasn't sure how to act now that he was really gone. He had no real reason to keep going; he was at the end of his days now too, and Castiel had been his only reason this entire last year for hanging on.
He saw a shadow flicker in the corner of the room, and he was not surprised to see that it was Tessa, standing there with her lip quirked up like she had seen this coming. Dean knew what the smirk meant; it was his time now, and Castiel was waiting for him.
Which is why it was no surprise when moments later, the monitor next to Castiel's went dead, too.