Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Picture this,” Dean exclaimed loudly as he barged into his agent’s office. His agent clicked his tongue and raised his eyebrows at the sudden disturbance but said nothing; this was typical Dean behaviour. Dean continued without missing a beat.

“There’s a break in the trees; it’s dark. The fall leaves are dusting the ground and painting the forest floor with their rich browns, reds and golds. A single sunray beams down between the trees, encasing a humanoid, winged being – making it appear like he’s got a halo!”

As Dean spoke, he threw his arms around in the air, using his hands and fingers to paint the picture.

“The perfect photo of a real-life angel!”

“Dean…” His agent started.

“A-bub-bub-bub,” Dean shushed hurriedly, shaking his head and his fingers in his agent’s direction to stop him. Dean wasn’t finished talking and he couldn’t have any interruptions. When he was sure that his agent wasn’t going to say anything else, he continued.

“Then, picture the photo… the perfect photo… on front of all the big newspapers; on all the big magazines; on every website you can think of. And all credited to Dean Winchester; aspiring photographer.”

He kept his hands in the air and the huge smile on his face as he nodded at his agent, now wanting his input.

The other man sighed and clicked his tongue again.

“Dean, no; you’re not going after an angel,” The man sat behind the desk decided, his tone suggesting that the discussion was closed. Dean didn’t agree and took a deep breath in preparation to fight his cause.

“Sam!” He exclaimed. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Never again will something like this come about!”

Sam, Dean’s agent (and his younger brother) sighed dramatically.

“This could be my big break, Sammy!”

“Dean, how do you know if there’s even a market for angel photo’s right now, huh?” Sam tried, taking on a different tactic. “Last I knew, angels seem to be on the downlow at the moment; there isn’t much to report about them.”

“Exactly!” Dean cried, enthusiastically. “But there will be when I get that perfect photo Sam! And I am going to get it!”

Sam groaned in frustration, almost ready to pull his hair out.

“And just where are you going to get this photo?” Sam asked, crossing his arms. “There’s no forests around here, and there’s not been an angel sighting in Lawrence in nearly 200 years!”

Dean beamed, and Sam could have groaned again; that smug look could mean literally anything.

“Pack your bags Sammy; we’re going to Alaska!”

“Alaska?!”

“Alaska,” Dean nodded. “That’s where Angel HQ seems to be. They say that an angel sighting is reported at least once a day.”

“Dean…”

“Sam!” Dean snapped, although not unkindly. “We’re doing this! I’ve book a motel for a weeks time. If you don’t want to come then fine – but I am going!”

With that, Dean spun on his heel and practically ran from the room before Sam could think of another counterpoint.

Sam sighed, and glanced over the work he had been conducting before Dean had interrupted. He pushed it away slightly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it now.

Going after an angel picture? What was Dean thinking? There was a reason why no one had ever managed to get a good picture or video clip of the flying, humanoid beats! If the angels didn’t want you to see them, you couldn’t and wouldn’t see them.

Sam didn’t want to feel bad for trying to put a stop to Dean’s silly idea, but he did. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in his brother or want the best for him; he was just trying to keep Dean safe. People had tried to do this before, and each one had come back pretty much empty handed with only a few blurry photos… that’s if they came back at all.

Angels had a tendency to latch on to certain humans; they’d kidnap them and take them back to their nests where they would turn them into their hatchlings. No one knew the ins and outs of it. No one knew how it worked. No one knew how long it took. No one even knew what an angel’s nest looked like. But the humans, or rather the hatchlings, eventually grew into angels. Hatchlings, and angels for that matter, weren’t accepted in society. And that’s what Sam was worried about; if Dean went after the ‘perfect angel photo’ he seemed to have his heart set on, then he might never come back human.

But, when Dean got an idea in his head, it was next to impossible to get him to forget it.

Sam guessed he was going to Alaska; if only to make sure his brother stayed safe.

~PICTURE THIS~

It was a tedious journey, with tonnes of greasy fast food, 3 nights on cheap, lumpy motel beds, and Dean playing his so-out-of-date music at full blast, but eventually they reached Alaska.

Sam had done everything in the week leading up to the trip, to try and convince Dean against going to Alaska. But every time Sam tried, Dean just shut him down and kept promising him that it was going to work, that this was going to be his big break – Dean was sure that if he could do this, then he could do absolutely anything!

Sam loved Dean’s enthusiasm, but he hated that Dean just couldn’t see the dangers of his mission, no matter how much Sam tried to warn him.

Sam begrudgingly had agreed to get in the car and take the 3-day-plus drive to Alaska with Dean, as long as he swore to come home after a week if he didn’t have anything. To everyone’s surprise, the elder Winchester actually agreed.

They checked into the motel easily enough on arrival, and Sam was ready to pass out in bed after a bite to eat and maybe a shower. But when he suggested heading to the café across the road, Dean explained that he had other ideas.

Dean extended the offer to Sam, but the younger guy did not want to spend the next 2 or 3 hours in a stuffy, dingy, smelly bar. They’d just spent nearly 12 hours on the road, god damn it.

It wasn’t too late when Dean arrived at the bar, but the place looked busy enough. And the name of the place was surely a sign; ‘Angel’s Heaven’.

As he walked into the semi-modern place, Dean took in his surroundings. He tried to scope out who looked to be the best person to question about the angels. No one really stuck out to him, and he slinked over to the bar and ordered a drink.

“You’re not from around here.”

Dean looked up at the gruff voice as he took the beer from the bartender.

“That obvious, huh?” Dean scoffed lightly at the older man. He wore a baseball hat that had clearly seen better days, and he looked quite ruff round the edges. He looked stern and cross, but Dean could tell that he wasn’t as bad as he clearly tried to make out to be.

“Yeah,” The older man smirked. “And I know why you’re here.”

“You do?” Dean asked in disbelief. “Please, enlighten me.”

“You’re here for the angels.”

Dean nearly choked on his beer. The older man laughed.

“Sorry son,” He chuckled. “It’s just no one just passes through this town, no one comes to this town on holiday… they only come to see the angels.”

Jackpot! This was exactly what Dean was looking for; someone with information!

“Yeah, well you’re not wrong,” Dean smiled kindly. He held his hand out in invitation. “Dean Winchester.”

“Bobby Singer,” The older man nodded, shaking Dean’s hand in greeting.

Nothing was said between them for a moment, and Dean was desperately searching for the right conversation starter to get them talking about the angels again. Bobby beat him to it though.

“What do you want with the angels?”

“Me?” Dean asked, the question catching him off guard. “I’m a photographer.”

“And what? Think you’re going to get the first decent photo of an angel? Think you’re going to become famous overnight?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Dean chuckled, still sipping at his beer. “They say Alaska is the best place for angel spotting’s.”

Bobby said nothing for a moment and merely flagged down the bartender. He waited until he had another beer in his hand and had chugged half of it down before he spoke again.

“You’re not wrong,” Bobby grumbled.

“I’m sensing a but…”

Bobby huffed and took in a deep breath before launching into speech.

“But, it’s not like it used to be. We get angel sightings, sure. We probably still get more angel sightings than any other US state. But compared to 10, maybe 15 years ago; we get next to no sightings now.”

No. That couldn’t be right. Dean had done his research before even pitching the idea to Sammy.

“So, you don’t get daily angel sightings?” Dean asked, trying not to let his panic show.

“Daily?” Bobby deadpanned. “Boy, we barely get one once a week!”

Once a week? Well, it wasn’t ideal – but it would give Dean a shot, he guessed. He would just have to figure out the best place to get a picture.

“Why?” Dean asked. “What happened?”

“Fucked if I know,” Bobby shrugged, looking down at the dregs in the bottom of his glass. “Over the years, the number or sightings just dwindled. This used to be one of the most dangerous places to live you know?”

Stupidly, Dean thought to ask why.

“Why?!” Bobby cried. “You never heard of an angel kidnapping, boy? There used to be at least once a month!”

“You said it used to be?” Dean questioned. The background noise of the bar had turned into a dull thrum that Dean barely paid any attention to.

“Yeah, used to be. There hasn’t been an angel kidnapping in 6 years.”

Well, Dean thought, at least this mission was now sounding less and less dangerous; and perhaps Sam would stop his petty worrying now.

“Well, I am out to get a picture of the angels,” Dean admitted. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the best place to get one would be?”

“There’s a hill, close to the mountains,” Bobby started, before he stopped and shook his head. “You’d be signing your own death certificate if you do this boy, not everyone goes to Angel’s Hill and lives to tell the tale.”

“I’m not everyone,” Dean smirked. “So, Angel’s Hill you say?”

~PICTURE THIS~

The next couple of days passed in much the same fashion. Dean’s alarm forced them awake at the godly hour of 4am; Dean grabbed bacon sandwiches from the diner on the way to Angel’s Hill. Once there, he would check all the night-vision, and motion-sensor cameras he had set up and then he settled down with his camera as he scouted the sky for any signs of a winged being. There never was.

Sam accompanied him for the first few days, despite how boring it was. It was mainly to keep an eye on his brother and to stop him from venturing into the forest that started at the bottom of the hill; Sam had to do that more often that he would like to admit.

On the fourth morning, however, Sammy woke up with a pounding headache and he knew that spending the day out in the blaring sun was not going to help him one bit. Dean playfully teased him about looking for excuses to get out of accompanying him, but he did go and buy some pain-killers for him before he went off to Angel’s Hill for the day.

When he got to the ready-made camp, he checked the cameras as usually, expecting to find that the only thing that had set the motion-sensor off was an own or a squirrel. But he got the shock off his life, and nearly dropped the camera when out of nowhere, a figure appeared on the screen.

It was an angel. It was so obviously an angel. A male angel with dark hair, and even darker wings which were standing huge and intimidating behind him. He was staring into the camera lens, and after a moment he squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the left in confusion.

Dean watched the screen, transfixed, as the angel’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, then turned on his heel, spread his wings and took flight. It didn’t take long for him to become a small speck in the distance before he vanished completely.

“Wow,” Dean hushed, turning to actually look at the sky where the camera had caught the angel flying off. He didn’t know what he was expecting to see, but for as far as the eye could see there was blue skies and deep green forests down below.

He spent the whole day hopeful that he would catch a glimpse of an angel flying by. But he wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t. He went back to the motel with more enthusiasm than he had in the last few days.

Sammy wasn’t any better than when Dean had left that morning. In fact, he was worse. Now he was feeling nauseas and it felt like he had a fever. Sam was actually quite excited when Dean showed him the video clip of the angel and told Dean that he was actually getting close.

Overnight, Sammy didn’t sleep well and he even threw up once or twice. Dean was starting to worry and told his brother that they’d go home, but Sam wasn’t having any of it. Dean was actually getting somewhere and he was close to getting the picture he wanted.

So, the next morning, Dean made sure that Sammy had everything he needed before he went off, promising to be back by 5 that evening.

Dean made it to his camp. He looked around and sighed; it was the same view he’d been looking at for the past 5 days. Something had to change. The angel that he’d caught on camera had flown over the forest…

In the next moment he had made up his mind. He grabbed his camera and a decent lens before he began marching down the hill towards the forest.

The forest was cool and a lot darker than he had first anticipated. But he remained positive that he was going to find that break in the trees that he talked about.

Dean didn’t have any better luck in the forest than he did on the hill, and as much as he could keep going for a couple more hours before it got too dark, he had promised Sam that he would be back at the motel earlier that evening.

He was close to the edge of the trees, close to packing his camera up for the day and resigning himself to the fact that it was another day lost. He started wondering whether Sammy was feeling any better and whether he’d be up to some food tonight when the forest fell deathly silent.

It made Dean shiver and pick up his pace some. But only seconds later, a loud pounding beat surrounded him and made him freeze.

If he wasn’t mistaken, that was the sound of wings. An Angel’s wings. Dean’s heart thudded in his chest, and he wasn’t sure whether it was in excitement, fear or both. He’d talked about this moment constantly for the last two weeks, and now it was here he was shitting himself. He was alone, in a forest, with an angel standing behind him. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around.

The being behind him started talking. Dean couldn’t understand it or place it; and that meant it was the language of the angels.

Dean felt like he was going to have a panic attack, but he forced himself to calm and think about the situation. He should make a run for it, but he doubted the angel would let him get very far.

He heard the angel take a few steps towards him. Before Dean could do anything, a strong, large, warm hand touched his shoulder. It was followed quickly by a small, tiny wet lick on the back of his neck. Dean jumped away, feeling like the angel had burnt him.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, finally spinning around. He was now in fight or flight mode.

The angel, Dean barely realised, was the angel that he had caught on camera. The angel started saying something, but Dean had absolutely no idea what he was trying to say.

“Look buddy,” Dean laughed nervously, holding his hands high in the air. He started backing away slowly. “I mean no harm. Nice to meet you but I… WOAH!”

The angel was suddenly standing right in front of Dean and gobbled him into his arms. He spoke some more, voice soft and soothing as he spread his wings wide in preparation to take flight.

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” Dean screamed. This angel was about to fly off, with Dean still in his arms. This couldn’t be happening, and in his haste to get away, Dean grabbed at what he could in hopes it would help him. The unexpected click and flash of his camera blinded him, and the angel who hissed and threw the camera away.

More foreign words were spoken and Dean struggled, screaming and calling for help as the angel finally took flight, only tightening his hold on Dean.

Dean couldn’t believe this was happening!

Chapter Text

A million thoughts crossed Dean’s mind as he thrashed and fought and screamed, trying in every way he could to get away from the winged beast. The angel though didn’t seem to be bothered at all by Dean’s struggles, the hold on him so tight that even Dean knew he wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

The only thought that Dean didn’t seem to think about what that if he did somehow manage to break free from the angel’s grasp, he would plummet instantly to his death.

It didn’t take them overly long to reach the nest, but Dean knew that it didn’t mean they were anywhere close to the forest and the town where Sammy was still holed up, sick, in the motel room. They had clearly eaten up some miles in the short amount of time that they were in the air.

When they touched down, the arms around Dean went slack. It took Dean some time to get his bearings back again after being in the air, but when he did he squawked and jumped away. They were right on the edge of a mountain, with what looked like 13,000 feet below them. He tried to back peddle away from the edge and to safety, but only succeeded in pushing himself further into the angel’s embrace.

The arms around him tightened once more, but this time, Dean clung to them; he felt a hundred times safer with them wrapped around him. Still, they were right on the edge and Dean was a little concerned that both of their weights, combined with the extra weight from the beast’s wings (how heavy were an angel’s wings anyway?!), would cause the ledge to give way and send them tumbling to their inevitable death. Dean couldn’t help the desperate, pitiful whine that sounded in the back of his throat.

There was a calming, shushing noise from behind him, quiet in his left ear. Dean shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut; he was already feeling sick from the flight and just looking at the ground so far below them was making him feel worse.

Dean felt, more than heard, the wings as they brushed against him. He could tell, even with his eyes shut as tightly as they were, that everything around him went dark. It made him instinctively open his eyes, to assess the new danger. But what surrounded him was merely dark, heavy, feathered wings.

Dean briefly thought about fighting back, but he remembered that they were currently on the very edge of a mountain. He decided that he wasn’t going to risk it, and instead pushed himself even further into the angel.

The angel said something, his voice soothing and calming, but it was slightly muffled by the wings that surrounded Dean completely. Not that Dean could understand the angel’s language anyway; he didn’t know of any human that could. Then, in the next second the arms around Dean moved and he was suddenly hoisted into a bridal style carry.

The change in velocity, added to the darkness and the knowledge that they were standing so close to the edge of the mountain, made Dean screech and flail in panic. The angel spun them round and started walking, in a direction that Dean safely assumed was away from the edge and the 13,000 feet drop. As they walked further and further away from the mountain edge, the angel slowly brought his wings from around Dean once more. The angel continued to mutter things, but Dean just simply had no idea what the guy was trying to say to him.

Dean noticed that the angel was walking on a very clear mountain path, and his interest in where he was being taken spiked. If there was a path, that meant it could be followed to civilization, and potentially escape!

“Dude,” Dean grumbled, forcing himself to calm and take in deep breaths of the fresh, crisp air. “Let me down. I can walk.”

The angel cooed at him, and ducked his head to nuzzle their foreheads together for a few fleeting seconds before straightening back up again.

Dean threw his head back dramatically and decided that maybe the angel couldn’t understand what he was saying to him any better than Dean could understand the angel. Well then, Dean supposed, body language sometimes spoke louder than words.

Without a second thought (especially now they were quite safely away from the edge of the mountain ledge) Dean attempted to swing his legs around the angel’s arms and jump onto his feet. After that the plan was to maybe knock the angel over (and hopefully unconscious) as he ran down the path and back towards the town.

He didn’t get far. The angel stopped walking and tightened his grip once more. He continued to chatter constantly, although this time his tone was slightly harder, but still not unkind. Then, with seemingly no effort, he maneuvered and damn right manhandled Dean until he was holding him against his chest, like one would a toddler; Dean’s legs were left dangling down, the angel’s hand slayed and supporting under his arse, his other arm between Dean’s shoulders, keeping him pressed tightly against the angel’s chest.

There was more shushing in his ear and even, Dean shifted as his cheeks flushed, a little rocking as if the angel was trying to sooth him. Within minutes the angel had started walking again, the movement jolting Dean slightly and causing him to throw his legs around the angel’s waist and his arms around his shoulder.

Dean was mortified when the angel childishly bounced him a few times, as one would with a fussy babe. He let the groan of embarrassment slip out as he shifted. More shushing and cooing, and the hand in between his shoulders raised higher to press his head gently into the crook of the angel’s neck. Dean attempted to struggle, but the hand didn’t let him budge and the angel just continue to bounce him as they walked.

They had to have been walking for another 10 minutes before the angel slowed. Dean tried to raise his head to see what was happening, but the hand was still keeping his head in place. He didn’t care that he actually found the position against the angel calming, he just wanted to assess his surroundings.

And then slowly he was being lowered, his head and neck being cradled like a new-born’s, as if the angel was scared it was going to snap at any given moment if not supported.

“No,” Dean grumbled, his hands flying out beside him so that he could anticipate the floor easier and quicker. He was placed led down on his back against something soft and plush, but as Dean threw his head around he realised that it was not a bed like he first thought.

There was no doubt about it, he was in a nest. Everyone knew of angel’s nests, but no body really had a clue of what they looked like or anything. People speculated of course, but nothing was concrete. The nest he was in though was very primal. It was large, very large; but Dean supposed that the angel kinda needed large to fit two grown ass males into it. As Dean raised his head he could see woven twigs to one side, but mostly the base and sides of the nest were covered with fur pelts – lots and lots of fur pelts.

Dean shuddered as the thought freaked him out a little; he didn’t agree with real fur, which was what was clearly surrounding him now. He had to remind himself that there were more pressing matters to panic about right now than real fur.

He was brought out of his thoughts when the angel’s hands started yanking off his shoes.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dean cried, kicking his legs out and struggling to get purchase on the soft, thick fur. “What are you doing?!”

The angel said nothing for a minute, his face showing nothing but concentration as he threw the shoe out of the nest. The angel went back for the other one, but Dean screamed and struggled away, using his arms and legs to propel himself backwards. The angel, who was not put off at all by Dean’s wriggling, took a hold of Dean’s ankle and pulled the other shoe off.

The angel’s chatter started up again and Dean was desperate to know what he was saying. It would certainly help, Dean would probably be able to anticipate what was coming rather than have to wait for it to actually happen. Plus, he’d be able to communicate with the guy and maybe bargain his way out of whatever the hell was about to happen to him. (Oh, who was he kidding? He knew what was about to happen, and if he didn’t get away now the angel was going to change, and ultimately ruin his life!)

The angel’s hands then started pulling at his clothes.

“No!” Dean yelled, throwing his weight around until he got enough momentum to push himself onto his knees. The angel’s talk continued and his hands were still on Dean, trying to pull the clothes off of him. “Get off me, you crazy beast!”

Dean struggled to his feet, and felt unsteady with the uneven ground before him. He stumbled a few times as he hurried to get away, planning on climbing over the edge of the nest (although the edge of the nest was so high that Dean could barely see over the edge of it!) before the angel’s hands were on him and lifting him into the air again.

Dean screamed and flailed. He had had enough and just wanted to go back to the motel, back to Sammy; he wanted nothing more than to get into his baby with Sam and drive away from this crazy town, from the crazy state and never ever look back!

The sound of the slap didn’t make him stop, but the sting that blossomed a second later did. His hands flew automatically to his arse to rub the area that the angel had just hit, shocked into silence. The angel spoke slowly and firmly, and his face alone told Dean that he was no at all happy. Then Dean saw red.

“You fucking hit me! You bastard! You fucking hit me!”

Dean really didn’t hold back this time, putting every last little bit of effort into fighting. His fingernails dug into the angel’s skin, his teeth bit into the angel’s shoulder. He tried headbutting the angel to force him off balance; he attempted to knee the guy between the legs to send him to his knees. Dean tried everything he could think off to inflict hurt and pain on the being that was carrying him, but it seemed like the angel was not having to struggle at all to keep hold of Dean.

When Dean raised his fingers and pressed them into the angel’s eyes with an ear-splitting screech, that was it. The angel had reached the end of his tether and was not putting up with Dean’s behaviour and attitude any longer.

The angel wasted no time in flipping Dean over his knee and landing swat after slap after smack to his poor arse. Dean screamed and cried, fighting still, but this time fighting to get off of the angel’s knee. He kicked his legs and hit his arms against the angel. He tried to push himself up but the angel just pushed him down with a strong hand to the middle of his back and continued his assault on his rear.

The spanking (because eventually, Dean had to admit to himself that that was what it was; he was being spanked like a naughty five-year-old!) went on and on for some time. The angel didn’t let up, and he didn’t set a rhythm either, his hand just kept coming down hard and fast on Dean’s poor bottom which was undoubtedly red and bruised. Dean had never felt pain like this in his life.

And with that thought, all the fight drained out of him. He went limp over the angel’s lap and let the attack to his ass continue; it wasn’t like there was anything he could do to stop it, and he’d tried. The tears of anger that he’d been previously shedding turned sorrowful and Dean started to beg, not caring for the snot that was running from his nose.

It was only seconds after that, that the spanking stopped. The angel hoisted Dean up and held him close to his chest. He was muttering something soft and kind, and Dean wished again that he could understand what the guy was saying. His hands came up to wipe at Dean’s snot and tear covered face and then he pulled Dean into his chest. He wrapped his arms and wings around him again and used his hand to guide Dean’s head back against his shoulder.

Dean was exhausted now. He’d used up all his energy and the adrenaline that had previously inhabited him was gone, leaving him feeling like he’d hit rock bottom. All he wanted to do now was sleep. The angel was warm and comforting and besides the fact that he had just moments before been wailing on his ass, Dean felt safe and content surrounded by this angel and his wings. The angel was talking, and then he started rocking Dean and Dean was unable to deny himself the pleasure of closing his eyes for a second or two.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, and Dean allowed himself to drift. It wasn’t until there were hands on his clothes again that he jolted back to himself. The angel’s wings and warmth were gone, but the guys hands were still on him. Dean blinked sleepily up at the smiling face of the angel looking down on him, shushing and cooing at him like he was a baby.

Dean realised, as the angel began pulling off his trousers, that he should be fighting this. He struggled and whined a little, but he was just so tired from all the fighting that he could barely manage anything feeble. The angel chuckled at him and shushed him, hands coming up to smooth his hair and face before returning to his clothes. Dean let his limbs be moved and manipulated until he was down to his boxers.

“Dude, no,” Dean grumbled, pushing weakly at the angel’s hands when they went to the waistband of his underwear. “Anything but them.”

The angel chattered more, his voice so soothing Dean almost fell back to sleep from it.

“I wish I could understand what you are saying,” Dean hushed. Then the angel went back to his boxers and Dean pushed him away again. “I said no.”

The angel shushed him, and with little to no effort had all but ripped his last scrap of clothing from Dean’s body. They too, along with the rest of his clothing, joined his shoes as they were thrown over the edge of the nest.

Dean squeaked and pushed his hands to cover himself up. The movement caused his arse to move against the fur that now felt so rough against his reddened, sore skin. He hissed, and the angel muttered something that sounded slightly apologetic, in a condescending type of way.

The angel gathered Dean into his arms again, and Dean went reluctantly easily. The angel settled himself into the space where Dean had just been led and started rocking him again. The warmth, and safeness surrounded Dean once more and he felt himself relax a little more into the angel’s embrace. He let his eyes slid closed, knowing that he needed to sleep to get his energy back up before he could even attempt to try and escape.

The angel rocked him a little the movement soothing and comforting. The angel brought his hand up to rest on Dean’s left shoulder, and in the next second it was scorching hot. Dean cried out in pain and tried desperately to pull away from it, but the angel’s hold on him was too tight. It was over as quickly as it had started though, and Dean was left a muddle of pure confusion in the angel’s arms. The angel shushed and mumbled something to him, and then lowered his head over Dean’s shoulder.

There was no afterpain from the burn, but as soon as the angel’s tongue darted out and licked a few tentative stipes over the area, Dean sobbed. It hurt like hell! The angel continued licking Dean’s shoulder, much to Dean’s disgust. He tried to get away, moaning and complaining about how much it hurt. And then, just like that – the pain started to ease away. With each soft, kitten lick the pain from the burn was dissipating. Because it was making it feel so much better, Dean let the guy continue. It wasn’t until he felt the guys tongue on his chest that he realised that he’d checked out for a minute and the angel had managed to lick his way up both his arm and legs and over his shoulders; he could feel the cooling wetness left in its wake.

“Ugh,” Dean grunted, pushing at the angel’s head. “No. What are you doing? I’m not a dog; don’t need a fucking tongue bath, dude!”

The angel was not discouraged and just continued. Dean struggled again, still uselessly, but within minutes the angel had completely licked him all over. Dean shuddered, and wriggled his nose in disgust at the ‘bath’ he’d just been exposed to.

“Can I sleep now?” He complained, voice whiny and needy.

More chatter from the angel, his tone quiet and reassuring this time. The angel’s hands left him for a moment, but they returned just as quickly. They were wet this time though, but not wet with water. Whatever was coating the angel’s hands was oily and thick. Dean watched as the angel rubbed the clear liquid all over his skin; it almost felt like baby oil. The angel massaged it in, and it made Dean feel even sleepier, so he didn’t fight it.

Dean yawned as the angel brought the massaging to a stop. He spluttered when the angel stuffed a feather into his mouth. A light, sweet substance trickled from the tip of the feather and onto Dean’s tongue. He gasped and swallowed down instinctively, instantly wanting more. He latched onto the feather again and started sucking on it in earnest, not really giving thought to what he was doing.

~PICTURE THIS~

Castiel looked down at the human in his arms as he fell asleep. The poor thing was so scared and confused but just in that hour or so, Castiel could admit proudly that they had made progress.

Gone were the poor thing’s human clothing, he’d never have to wear anything so constricting again. He now bore Castiel’s mark as well, so that he would always call to Castiel and vice versa. Castiel had washed away any and all traces of the human world from the poor things skin and had rubbed his own wing oil into his skin, to help him relax and kick start the changing process. And now, as the human fell asleep suckling on his wingtip, on his grace, Castiel knew he had made the right decision.

He was the first angel in a little while to nest. There hadn’t been a need to for so long, and things had been peaceful and good within the flock that no one got the urge to nest and to take on a hatchling. But as this year’s nesting season came around, Castiel found himself longing for a little one of his own.

Castiel hadn’t had any trouble finding his hatchling. He didn't have any luck on the first or second day, but on the third day that he set out to scope the area for a hatchling, he saw him. He was with another human and they appeared to be bickering. Castiel had stayed hidden and distant, not wanting to bring attention to himself just yet, but he spent the whole day watching him. And then him and the other human left. Castiel had followed them; he knew that this human with the ash-brown hair was to be his hatchling. He watched on as they went inside a building, the door banging shut behind them.

Castiel took off again, he had to make his nest perfect for this beautiful human. This human was going to want for nothing, going to be completely and terribly spoilt. Castiel knew that he would move the earth for his hatchling… and he wasn’t even his yet!

He spent the next few days orientating between watching the human throughout the day as he stayed on the hill (Castiel couldn’t work out what it was he was doing) and making the nest when the human went back to his building in the evening. The other human was always with him for the first few days and then he suddenly stopped accompanying him. Castiel didn’t care though, too obsessed with watching his would-be hatchling. He wanted everything to be so perfect that he even entered the mini nest that the human spent all day in. He didn’t find much apart from this red-flashing light that utterly confused him.

Then on the sixth day everything was ready. Castiel watched and followed silently behind as his hatchling trekked through the forest.

And sure the human had fought and struggled, and earned himself a spanking - but these were all things to expect when taking on a hatchling. Humans didn’t seem to take well to being given such a wonderful, freeing opportunity.

The human was so beautiful that there was no doubt he would make an absolutely gorgeous hatchling. And he was Castiel’s.

Castiel hummed to himself as he rocked his sleeping hatchling, gently pulling his feather tip out from the boy’s lax mouth. The boy grumbled, and chased the feather causing Castiel to chuckle.

As the hatchling fell into a deeper sleep, Castiel busied himself, swaddling the babe tightly in warm fur pelts. The security of the fur pelts would be comforting to the poor, confused thing and would hopefully help him settle.

It was as Castiel was settling down for the evening himself, the hatchling close against his own skin, that Castiel realised his hatchling was going to need a name. Something that wouldn’t attach him to his now old, pitiful, human life. Something strong and angelic.

Something like Dekano. Yes, Dekano.

Castiel smiled fondly at his hatchling as the babe wriggle further into Castiel’s warmth. Castiel wrapped his arms and his wings around his hatchling and hummed in contentment.

“Welcome to the world, Dekano.”

Chapter Text

The early morning sun beamed through the branches of the trees and cast pretty patterns on every part of the nest. The trees sounded alive with the rustle of the soft breeze and the songs of the birds, slowly stirring the sleeping angel that was curled up in the large nest.

Castiel woke slowly, feeling more content here and now, with his hatchling still softly sleeping in his arms, than he could ever remember being before. It felt surreal to finally have a hatchling of his own. He almost couldn’t believe it and had to lift his wing just to take a long, fond, admiring look at the peaceful face as the hatchling kept on sleeping.

The hatchling had slept through the night, not waking once, which was impressive for a new born. He was still swaddled tightly and had stayed curled up against Castiel, his Papa, all night; the comforting weight of his Papa’s wings around him to keep the chill off.

With the wing removed though, the soft, cool, morning breeze washed over the baby and disturbed him. His face scrunched up and the cutest whimper Castiel had ever heard slipped from the hatchling’s lips. Almost instinctively, the hatchling learnt towards Castiel, clearly seeking out the warmth from the angel. It made Castiel’s heart melt and he quickly scooped the hatchling closer to him, wrapping his wings securely around them both once more.

“It’s okay, Dekano,” Castiel shushed as the hatchling settled back down again with the absence of the cold. “Papa’s here.”

It was nice to just lie there with Dekano and just think about his hatchling, and what the future had in store for them. He felt giddy with excitement and pride as he thought it all over. It had been a long time since anyone in his flock had taken a hatchling, over half a decade in fact. There was no particular reason, although Michael speculated that it was because the flock had reached a decent size and currently didn’t need to grow no further. But then Castiel felt the calling inside of him and knew that it was his time to take a hatchling.

News of his calling rippled quickly through the flock and there was a pleasant, happy buzz throughout as everyone speculated about one of their leaders finally taking on a hatchling. Michael was proud, excited more than anyone. Castiel quickly parted from the flock to search for the perfect nesting spot for himself and his future hatchling.

It hadn’t taken long to build the perfect nest. Castiel admired it now, woven with leaves and twigs and feathers from himself and his closest brothers. The fur pelts that decorated the nest also helped provide a sense of warmth and comfort. It was the perfect place to introduce Dekano to his new world.

Castiel moved his arms around his hatchling, to better support him and brought him tighter against his chest as he shifted into a sitting position. He kept his wings wrapped around the still sleeping babe as he thought over what he had to do today.

He glanced around the nest, noticing his feeble stock of rations. He would need more before the day was out, knowing that he needed to keep his strength up as Dekano was going to be consuming most of his grace. Without proper substance for himself, he would become weak and would therefore be unable to properly feed Dekano which could lead to troubles down the line – or, Castiel dreaded to even think it, but Dekano could die if he didn’t receive the correct amount of grace. It was no good even entertaining the idea of feeding him another angel’s grace though, that would just make the hatchling poorly; Dekano could now only consume Castiel’s grace. So, to properly look after his hatchling, Castiel would have to look after himself.

Knowing he had no other choice, Castiel decided that he would have to go hunting. He momentarily toyed with the idea of taking Dekano with him, but knew it wasn’t practical or ideal. Castiel could carry him in a sling against his chest or back, but it would make him slower and his reaction times would be off. That doubled with the fact that he was more likely to hurt Dekano with him so close made his decision concrete.

Dekano was still asleep and would likely be waking again soon. Castiel hoped that with another feeding (that the hatchling needed anyway) he would stay asleep long enough for him to slip out and do what he needed to do.

The hatchling wasn’t happy when Castiel removed his wings from around him, whining and whimpering and leaning closer into Castiel’s chest. It was sweet and Castiel knew in just that moment alone that he was absolutely smitten with his baby.

“Hush now,” Castiel cooed, rocking the poor thing gently. As he spoke he took a moment to stretch his wings out wide after being enclosed and unmoving for so long. “Papa’s got you.”

Dekano settled again rather quickly, his face pressed right over Castiel’s heart. His mouth hung slightly open and soft, adorable breaths left the babe. Castiel brought his wing close again, but this time fed a single feather into the hatchling’s mouth for feeding. Without any coaxing, Dekano latched on and started suckling the offered grace almost greedily.

Castiel chuckled, glad that his hatchling had a good appetite. As the feeding took place, Castiel could feel the changes already taking place inside Dekano’s body. He wasn’t yet a full hatchling, but he was no longer human. It was a tricky part of the process that would last a few days. It was also the most dangerous part; some bodies were just not equipped to take on the stress of the change and were sadly lost to the world. It was one of the reasons that Castiel was so hesitant to leave Dekano by himself during this time. He was going to need warmth, grace and closeness with his angelic parent.

Castiel reminded himself that he wasn’t going to be gone long. Half an hour at the most.

As Dekano finished his helping of grace, he fell into a deeper sleep. Castiel hummed in accomplishment and settled the hatchling on a bed of soft pelts. The babe was still swaddled tightly, but to ensure that he didn’t get cold, Castiel layered 4 more pelts on top of him; after all, hatchlings couldn’t yet regulate their body-temperatures like an adult angel.

With a soft kiss to the hatchling’s forehead, Castiel took flight.

It didn’t take long to hunt down some rabbits and a decent sized deer. It would be enough for him to continue with for a few days. He returned the items to the nest, checked on Dekano quickly who was still sleeping soundly and took off again to collect some water.

It was at the lake that he bumped into two familiar faces. His brothers, and fellow leaders of the flock.

“Cassie!”

Castiel rolled his eyes at the nickname but said nothing as he approached them both.

“What are you both doing here?” Castiel asked, a bit apprehensive as he thought of Dekano who was still in the nest.

“Mikey’s checking up on us,” Gabe muttered, crossing his arms. Castiel furrowed his eyebrows.

“Us?” He asked, turning to address their leader. “What do you mean?”

“After you left, Gabriel received the calling as well,” Michael explained with a proud smile. “And well, what with it having been so long since the last hatchling call, I wanted to make sure that everything was going alright.”

Castiel was surprised and didn’t quite know what to say.

“Are we talking about the same Gabriel?” Castiel asked in disbelief, his tone teasing. “The ‘I’ll-never-take-a-hatchling’ Gabriel?”

“The one and only,” Michael laughed, joining in with Castiel’s teasing.

“Alright you two!” Gabriel complained, almost stamping his foot childishly. “You know you can’t just ignore the calling.”

“How are things coming along?” Michael asked, suddenly very serious all over again.

“I’ve been gone a day, Mikey,” Gabe huffed. “A day. I haven’t even found the perfect nesting spot yet, let alone a hatchling. Ask Cassie; he’s the one that’s been gone over a week.”

Both sets of eyes landed on him, alight with curiosity. Castiel smiled slightly, picturing Dekano sleeping in the nest, his heart warming at the thought.

“He’s got one Mikey, he’s got one,” Gabe cooed. “Just look at that smile!”

“He’s perfect,” Castiel whispered, almost as if he was scared to speak any louder. “Last night was his first night with me. There was a bit of a disagreement, but the poor thing is so confused at the moment. He’s been as good as gold since though.”

Michael stepped forward and embraced Castiel in a warm hug, bringing his large dusty wings around them.

“I’m so happy for you,” Michael muttered quietly in his ear. “Congratulations.”

Castiel hugged his brother back for a moment but let him go when the older angel fell back slightly.

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. Either or you.”

Then he took off, flying back in the direction of the flock.

“Who would have thought?” Castiel mused when Michael had disappeared. “Two leaders getting the calling at the same time.”

Gabriel said nothing for a moment, watching as Castiel collected some water in containers. Gabe was clearly pondering on something and Castiel gave him a moment to think things over before he questioned him about it.

He took a moment longer than necessary to screw the lids on the water containers, but when he could prolong it no longer he turned to look at his brother.

“What’s bothering you Gabriel?”

Gabriel looked up, pursed his lips and sighed. His wings drooped low, showing his emotions stronger than any words could.

“I’m struggling to find the perfect nesting spot.”

Castiel said nothing for a moment, observing Gabriel carefully. He smiled kindly, knowing what his brother was currently going through.

“It takes time, Gabriel,” Castiel explained softly, as gently as he could. “I myself struggled for the first day or two. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But how?” Gabriel thought aloud. “How did you find your spot?”

“You will know when you find it Gabriel,” Castiel supplied. “It’s hard to find the perfect spot for your hatchling. But you will find it. It’s not impossible. Don’t give up.”

Gabriel seemed sated and happy with this piece of advice, his wings perking up a bit and a small smile gracing his lips again.

“I’m sorry Gabriel, but I must get back. Dekano will be waking any moment and I want to ensure I’m there.”

“Oh,” Gabriel gasped, a full smile now beaming on his face at the thought of Castiel’s hatchling. “Yes! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you! I can’t wait to meet him!”

The two angels embraced tightly, their wings intertwining for a moment before they said their goodbyes. Castiel promised to touch base with Gabriel in a few days to see how he was doing in his search for a nest and then he spread his wings and took to the sky. He flew in the opposite direction to Michael, back towards his nest and his hatchling.

As he flew, he couldn’t help the happy smile that graced his face as he thought about getting back to Dekano. He was going to be waking soon, to spend his very first day as a hatchling. It was very exciting, and he couldn’t wait to get back to the nest.

But when he did, his heart stopped. The nest was empty, the only signs of Dekano being the fur pelts he had been swaddled in discarded to the side, rumpled like someone had thrown them off.

Castiel couldn’t help fearing the worst, but quickly reminded himself to keep a level head. He had to think rationally; Dekano couldn’t have gotten far, and it was very unlikely that something else had taken the hatchling – no human’s strayed this far up the mountain, most likely in fear of coming across an angel, and there was nothing big enough or large enough that lived in the forest or the mountains that would even entertain the idea of taking on an angel or a hatchling.

Even if Dekano wasn’t in any danger of being taken by a predator, that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t come into any danger. There were many number of things that could potentially be dangerous to the hatchling and Castiel couldn’t bear to think about them.

Castiel was glad that he had taken the time last night to place his mark on the hatchling; if he hadn’t, finding him now may have been next to impossible. Castiel took a deep breath, closed his eyes and paid special attention to the growing connection between him and his hatchling.

He sensed him immediately, breathing a sigh of relief when he sensed no hurt or pain. He was able to pinpoint his location. Without a second thought, Castiel took off again, chasing after his run-away babe.

~PICTURE THIS~

Dean couldn’t believe his luck!

He had no idea how angel’s and hatchlings worked exactly, but he kinda figured that the angel wouldn’t let the hatchling out of their sight – kinda like with humans and their babies. But when he had woken (refusing to admit how warm and content he was swaddled in the fur pelts – and swaddled? Really? He wasn’t a new-born!) the angel that had taken him had been gone. It was a miracle.

Dean had wasted no time. He’d tested how tightly he was swaddled, which was actually rather tightly; but with lots of wriggling and manoeuvring Dean had managed to slip out of them. The next problem had been the fact that he was completely naked, but apart from the fur pelts, there was nothing in close proximity that seemed suitable to be clothing. Then Dean remembered what had happened the previous night to his clothing – the angel had thrown it over the edge of the nest.

Dean was quite tall, but the edge of nest was even taller, and Dean ended up slipping a few times as he had tried to climb it.  When he finally managed to get over the edge, he spotted his clothes dotted about sparsely on the dusty ground, but they thankfully weren’t far from the nest. He scurried to get them on as much as possible, knowing that it couldn’t be long before the angel returned to the nest. He needed to be out of here before he came back.

Only being able to find one shoe, and worrying about time running out, Dean left his feet bare and took off down the path of the mountain he’d spotted yesterday.

He was mindful of his feet as he ran but was focused mainly on getting as far away from the nest and the crazy-ass angel as he could. As he ran, his heart beat furiously in his chest, pumping adrenaline around his body like a drug. As he ran, Dean couldn’t help but think about Sammy. He wondered whether his younger brother was feeling any better, and whether he was worried or concerned about Dean’s disappearance – although, he was probably thinking that Dean had found some girl to go home with and had spent the night enjoying himself with her rather than in the clutches of an angel!

He ran as fast as he could manage, cursing as his bare feet came into contact with sticks, stones, thrones and nettles. He was sure the soles of his feet were torn to shreds, but he couldn’t stop – he had to keep going. He had to get away while the angel wasn’t in the nest; this could literally be his only chance, he was not going to waste it just because of a tiny bit of pain. He could deal with the cuts on his feet later, once he’d got Sam and was driving away from this crazy town faster than was legally acceptable.

He didn’t know how long he had been running, but he was starting to get parched. He was also confident that he had managed to put a fair distance between himself, the nest and the angel and he prayed to whatever god was out there that he would never see the angel again. He allowed himself to slow a bit, as he took in the mountain path. It was getting narrow now and proved almost impossible to manoeuvre. Dean wasn’t going to let that bother him though and took a step toward the dangerous path that was his road to freedom.

He'd barely taken two steps before the beating of wings surrounded him and the angel was stood in front of him. Dean backpedalled, almost tripping over a tree root and falling to the ground.

The angel began chattering to him, but Dean had no idea what he was saying, and it frustrated him even more. Only then did it seem to actually sink in that the angel was in front of him, had found him so quickly and he began to panic. He failed about for a moment, unable to get his words of protest out but he took a few tentative steps backwards before spinning on his heel and taking off in the opposite direction.

He didn’t have time to really decide on a plan of action. One second Dean was running away from the angel and in the next he was plucked from the ground. The angel held him exactly the same way as he had yesterday, like one would a toddler on their hip, and pressed his hand against Dean’s head to keep it pushed against the crook of his neck and shoulder.

The angel continued speaking and showed no sign of struggle as Dean fought the hold on him. The angel then began walking back up the mountain, back towards the nest all-but ignoring the human’s fight. Dean was only slightly grateful that the angel didn’t take flight again – that had been Dean’s worst nightmare; after all he was terrified of flying. The fear hadn’t really made an appearance yesterday as he had been too busy being frightened of the angel kidnapping he had been subjected to.

“Please,” Dean begged, pushing his hands against the rock-hard chest he was held tightly against. “Please just let me go.”

Dean choked on the lump of tears that lodged in his throat. It had been a long time since he cried, but this time he just couldn’t help himself. He felt so helpless and he was just so damned tired. He was cold, hungry and his feet hurt.

Unable to keep fighting, Dean slumped against the angel’s chest and just sobbed. Heart-breaking, real sobs that just wouldn’t stop.

The angel fell quiet and then wrapped his large, dark wings around him. Dean jerked when it went suddenly completely dark, but when the tip of a wing caressed his back he relaxed and just let himself be held and carried back to the nest. It was warm in the wings of the angel and Dean couldn’t help letting his wet eyes flutter closed.

~PICTURE THIS~

Dean had been surprised when he hadn’t received another spanking for his failed escape attempt. The angel had just taken him back to the nest, stripped him of his clothes again, gently tended to his feet until they were as good as new and fed him some more grace, rocking him until he fell to sleep.

The next few days passed almost uneventfully for them both. The angel expected nothing from Dean really, apart from accepting the strange feeds – straight from a feather from one of his wings. It was nice and relaxed, with lots of touching and cuddling (which Dean was not exactly game for, but the angel kept him nice and warm – he was always cold without the touch of the angel).

There had only been one incident since the escape attempt, and that had been when Dean had watched the angel cooking. He’d been cooking the meat of a rabbit over a small simmering fire, humming to himself and checking in on Dean every few seconds with a soft smile. The meat smelt delicious and Dean had hardly been able to believe his luck – he was going to be getting some actual food! When the angel took the meat from the fire and put the flames out, Dean had scurried forward and waited eagerly at the angel’s side. But the angel had smiled at him before he began eating it himself. Dean tried to pick at it, but his hands were batted away lightly… he’d tried again but the angel’s chattering turned firm and he pointed back over the makeshift sleeping area of the nest where Dean had been previously. Dean had received the message loud and clear, but he desperately wanted some of the food and he tried taking some again. The angel had huffed and put the meat down before picking Dean up and taking him over to the sleeping area where he proceeded to swaddle him before returning to his meal. Dean had sulked about that for hours after and only settled when the angel held him and fed him some grace.

Dean often found himself thinking of Sammy. He tried asking the angel about it once, sat there for ages just telling the winged creature about his life growing up with his brother and about their relationship now. The angel had nodded as if he could understand what he was saying, chattering back at regular intervals, like one would with a happy, vocal baby. Dean knew that the angel couldn’t actually understand him, but the incentive was nice.

He hoped that his brother was feeling better now and wondered whether he was out looking for him? He hoped that by now Sammy would realise that he wasn’t just goofing off with some girl.

Dean was also starting to get restless. He wanted more stimulation than he was getting and had even thought once or twice about scaling the walls while the angel wasn’t looking, but the angel was always looking. Dean, however, did take note in the slowly diminishing food and water that the angel had and knew that it couldn’t be long before he needed to get more. He decided to bide his time and wait until the angel took off again… at least, he hoped he would take off again.

About three days after his escape attempt, Dean woke from a nice nap in the sun with a loud yawn and a much-needed stretch. The angel was sat nearby and started chatting almost immediately.

“Yeah bro,” Dean nodded absentmindedly back at him, although he had no clue what the angel was saying. “Sounds real fascinating.”

The angel said something else next. And Dean understood it. It made him freeze and turn wide eyes on the winged create.

“What?” He stuttered. “Say… say that again!”

The angel smiled kindly at him and continued to chatter, but Dean didn’t understand a single thing.

“No, no! Go back! You said; I swear you did, you said… Papa.”

The angel almost gasped in delight and beamed wide. He pointed at himself and spoke slowly, but the word was one that Dean understood clear-as-day.

“Pa-pa.”

Dean laughed and jumped up, estatic. He could understand something! He threw his arms around the angel and laughed.

“Papa!” He repeated to the man. “I can understand that! Papa!”

The angel laughed back, sharing in his delight, enveloping his own arms around Dean as they shared their moment.

Dean didn’t care in that moment that the angel was referring to himself as ‘Papa’, he was just so excited that he actually understood something.

“Papa!” Dean repeated, a huge smile on his face as he sat back from the hug.

The angel chucked and chattered before repeating the title, pointing to himself to emphasises. Dean got it but chose not to dwell on it for the moment. Then the angel pointed to him and said something else, something else that Dean understood.

“Dekano.”

“Me?” Dean asked, pointing to himself in shock.

The angel chattered and nodded his head.

“Dekano,” He repeated before pointing back at himself and repeating, “Papa!”

“No, I’m Dean,” Dean prompted, talking slowly. He hoped this language thing was something that worked both ways. He hoped that the angel was also starting to understand him and not just the other way around. “Dean.”

“Dekano,” The angel reiterated. “Papa.”

Dean didn’t press the matter of his name for the time being; it was very similar after all and he was just glad that he could finally understand something the angel said – who cared if he said his name slightly wrong? He sat back on his knees with a light chuckle of disbelief.

He looked up at the angel and smiled.

“Dekano and Papa,” He beamed.

Chapter Text

“Dekano?”

Dean ignored the call of the angel and continued to investigate the rations that the angel had left. There were plenty of containers filled with water, but he wasn’t looking for fluids. There was half a deer left, and Dean grimaced at it, wondering how after so many days it still looked pretty fresh; he did not want to eat any raw meat anyway, and he had no idea how to light a fire without a match, or without the angel intervening before he got too far. The only other thing Dean came across were greens… god-damn, rabbit food!! He couldn’t help but think of Sam as he pushed the carrots aside. There had to be something in this collection of food that was actually worth eating.

“Dekano, Papa…”

Dean huffed when the angel’s speech turned into the chatter that he still didn’t understand. But, if the angel’s tone was anything to go by, he was currently scolding Dean. Dean ignored him, but he knew he shouldn’t be touching Papa’s rations.

It wasn’t that he was hungry as such. Papa fed him enough alright, almost like clockwork 4 times a day. The grace (because Dean couldn’t deny it to himself any longer – it was clear that the angel was trying to turn him into his hatchling) was enough to keep him well full and sated. But seeing the angel eating solid food every morning and evening? Seeing the small pile of rations in one corner of the nest? It was almost teasing; Dean just desperately wanted something solid.

He should have seen it coming, but it still shocked him into crying out as a pair of, by now familiar, large hands slid under his arms and hoisted him into the air and away from the meat and greens.

“Papa!” He screeched, not settling even once the angel had easily manhandled him on his hip. “Stop! God damn it! Put me down!”

As if the angel understood him, Dean was placed on his own two feet. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Papa had understood his words; it had quickly become obvious in the last few days that it was him learning the language of the angels and not the other way around. He couldn’t tell though when he spoke in the angel’s language; to him it all sounded English.

As soon as Dean was steady on his feet, the angel let him go and crossed his arms. With the way the angel was staring him down, with that one eyebrow raised, Dean found himself feeling like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar (and he guessed, he kinda had…).

“Now, Papa,” Dean tried, carefully, holding his hands out. The angel had his spanking eyes on, and Dean knew he needed to backpedal really quickly. He knew that the angel didn’t understand all his words, but that didn’t stop him from trying. “Papa, I just wanted to see what was there! I wasn’t going to…”

Over the last few days, Dean had resigned himself to calling the angel ‘Papa’. He tried to pretend it was the guys name, and not that it was the angel calling himself Dean’s father. It was also the only thing that the angel referred to himself as and calling him ‘the angel’ had got old real fast. It was also nice to be able to call him by something that was guaranteed to get the angel’s attention. And in actual fact, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Dean had thought it would be – coming so naturally that Dean didn’t even had to consciously think about it by now.

“Dekano,” Papa started, cutting across him. The firm tone in that one word quickly ensured that Dean stopped talking. He nodded once when it became obvious that Dean wasn’t going to say another word. He spoke next, but whatever he said was lost on Dean, apart from a few words. “…hatchling… grace… hungry.”

“Hungry,” Dean repeated slowly, like he always did whenever he heard a new word. He knew he could use this word he’d just learnt to his advantage… use it to get out a possible spanking. “Yeah. I’m hungry Papa!”

The realisation was evident on the angel’s face and he relaxed, uncrossing his arms. He reached down to scoop Dean back up again. He went far more willingly this time, refusing to admit to himself that he leant into the skin-on-skin contact as the angel gently moved him into position against his chest. Dean sighed comfortingly at the closeness, relishing in the warmth that he only felt when this close to the angel and eagerly took the offered feather into his mouth, carefully suckling to produce the grace. These feedings had now, embarrassingly become second nature, and something Dean always looked forward to (although he would not admit it to even himself).

“Papa… hungry baby,” The angel chattered to him, fingers brushing Dean’s hair back behind his ear. Dean hummed, not stopping the sweet flow of grace. He let his eyes flutter, almost in time to his Papa’s swaying as the angel’s words washed over him; Dean might not be able to understand most of them, but the angel’s voice was soothing and always managed to lull Dean into a sleep.

~PICTURE THIS~

Castiel smiled down at the sleeping hatchling in his arms, the warm, fuzzy feeling in his heart growing and growing and the smile on his face becoming wider and wider. There was no denying how in love with the babe Castiel was. Castiel knew that he would do anything for the sleeping babe in his arms, without a doubt or second thought; he was going to teach and guide him to be a great angel and to strive to be who he wanted to be.

Deciding that right now, he wanted nothing more than to be close to Dekano, he wrapped his wings around them both and lowered himself into the built up fur pelts of the sleeping area. Having this moment would be a good bonding moment for them both, while giving Castiel a chance to rest also.

Castiel took some deep breaths and listened to the soft, quiet snores and the feeling of Dekano’s breath on his skin from where the hatchling’s face was pressed right against his chest. Castiel knew the love was apparent on his face and he let the tip of his feather ghost over the sleeping hatchling’s cheek. Dekano let out a happy, contented sigh at the touch and attempted to wriggle even closer into Castiel’s embrace.

Castiel was really happy with how his relationship with Dekano had blossomed over the past few days. The hatchling was settling into a well needed routine and was starting to seek out Castiel if he needed something, even if it was just for the reassurance that Castiel was close by. Dekano was quickly picking up Enochian as well, the language of the angels. At his current pace he learnt between 1 and 3 new words every day; it was impressive for a new-born.

Although Castiel was very much enjoying it just being himself and Dekano, he couldn’t wait to return and integrate his hatchling into the flock. It was going to be such a pleasure watching Dekano grow and flourish with all his friends and family surrounding him. Castiel was also interested in which element would take to Dekano, and what his talent would be.

Fire. Earth. Air. Water. Known as the four elements, they played a huge role in the lives of the angels. The element chose the angel and not the other way around, and there really was no fighting it (many angels had tried). No one really knew what the rhyme or reason behind the choosing was, it was just deemed mother-natures course.

The element chose the angel the second they consumed their first sip of grace, so Dekano had already been assigned an element. Sometimes it was obvious what element had chosen the hatchling because there would be signs, but so far Castiel had yet to see any signs of an element from Dekano. He wasn’t worried about that though because it was to be officially revealed at the welcoming ceremony upon re-joining the flock.

The angel would ultimately be able to harness and control the element that choose them, but only properly once they had earned that elements trust; it was a tricky process sometimes, but it was worth it. Fire Angels could touch a flame without it burning, could light a fire with a flick of their wrists or put it out. Earth Angels could grow things at tremendous speed encouraging growth and beauty in nature and wildlife. Air Angels could create winds and hold them back, encourage a breeze and clear air. And Water Angels could calm water, create waves and ensure that the water was safe to drink. There were many other things that each Angel could accomplish with their element, but if an Air Angel tried to conjure up a small fire, they would not get very far. The element chose the angel for a reason and it was an honour to be welcomed into either element-family.

Castiel himself was a Water Angel and he took pride in that. He had worked hard to earn and gain the trust of his element, and now he and the water were very good friends; they were one. And Castiel was even prouder to be his flocks Water Angel Leader. He was one of the four leaders in the flock, alongside his brothers, Michael, Lucifer and Gabriel; each of them being the leader of their own elements. Together they created a force to be reckoned with, as mother-nature planned; with them together they were almost unstoppable. Castiel hoped everything was alright though, considering his and Gabriel’s absence from the flock… he hoped that their vulnerability didn’t get out and someone took it as the perfect opportunity to overtake his flock. Still, Castiel knew that the seconds had stepped up and taken their place while their leaders were answering natures call. And it would all be worth it in the end, when he got to take Dekano back and show him off; he had to have faith in his flock, they would be fine for a few more weeks and would always call him if not.

Not only did angels have the elements on their side, each angel was assigned a talent as well. A talent was something of a role within the flock. Each one was as vital as the last and while some talents were looked down upon, Castiel knew the importance of them all and how the flock could not and would not run properly without each one.

Just like the elements, the talent chose the angel. It was something that was assigned to them also in the welcoming ceremony and one that further defined the hatchling. It was a magical thing, an angel’s talent. It was an area of expertise, an area where the angel’s grace flourished, an area that was second nature to them once they had learnt to harness the full extent of the talent.

The talent that a hatchling had was considered a great gift, one to be cherished and loved; one that was meant to be preened and practised until the hatchling had perfected it.

The talents included, but were not limited to, hunting, protecting, scouting, healing, guardianship and peace.

Castiel himself was a peace angel. He was the peacekeeper of the flock, despite not being the only angel with the peace talent. It was an important role, that ensured everyone was happy and had a voice. He offered advice and comfort to anyone and everyone if they needed it or wished for it. It was a talent that Castiel was more than happy to have; it brought him joy when he saw how much he helped his friends and family.

A Hunter Angel was more likely to do most of the hunting, despite all angel’s in Castiel’s flock being trained to do just so; as a survival instinct should for some strange and unfortunate reason one of them should get separated. Hunter’s were also often at the forefront of any battle and were quick at finding prey; their senses slightly heightened to so.

A Protector Angel was an angel who ensured that the flock was protected at all costs. From humans, other angel flocks… you name it, the Protector’s did their damn hardest to make sure that their flock was safe and well looked after. Sometimes that meant offering more fur pelts to keep everyone warmer in harsher winters and other times it meant planning a course of attack and keeping the bad guys at bay. They worked closely with the Hunters and the two talents complimented each other well.

A Healer Angel was a less sought out talent and there were less angels with this talent than any other. But it was one of the, if not the, most important talents there was. A Healer ensured that everyone was well and taken care of, that they were fixed up when they needed to be – whether that be from a scuffle with a brother or returning from hunting or a battle with a wound. Without the Healers, the flock would all but die away due to not being able to properly heal their own wounds or illnesses.

And a Guardianship Angel was almost like a mother. Sadly, a Guardian would never get the calling to take on a hatchling of their own. Instead though they would be assigned, by mother-nature, to a hatchling upon their initiation into the flock. It was such a magical and important role for the Guardian, the angel parent and the hatchling. The Guardian became as much of a parent to the hatchling as the hatchling’s actual angel parent, while also creating a special bond with the angel parent as well. It was considered an honour to be a Guardian and to be given the trust of their fellow angel’s hatchling. The Guardian became a parent, a sibling, a friend; they became ultimately whatever the hatchling needed them to be at any one time. The Guardian would protect the hatchling from the moment they joined the flock and all the way through their life. (Castiel chuckled as he thought of his very own Guardian, Chuck, who still mothered him like crazy despite him now being one of the four flock leaders).

Castiel really couldn’t help but wonder which element and which talent would choose Dekano. He pondered over which one might suit him best, but he really couldn’t decide. It was going to just be a waiting game until the initiation to the flock when all would be revealed. Castiel didn’t mind waiting though, it just made it all that more magical not knowing.

It was as he was mulling this all over, relaxing and enjoying the moment of quiet with Dekano sleepily and safely tucked in his arms and wings, that he felt the soft tugging on his grace. He broke out of his thoughts and focused on the gentleness of the pull and reached out as soon as he recognised the owner of the grace intertwining with his own.

‘Gabriel. Are you okay?’

‘Just reaching out Cassie; checking in, you know? Making sure you and the hatchling are okay.’

Castiel frowned at the sad flutter his brother’s grace gave. It felt as if Gabriel was losing hope. It was so unlike his brother and it made Castiel’s own grace reach back out to Gabriel almost desperately, wanting to make sure everything was okay. Castiel though, had a good idea about what this might be about.

‘You still have not found your nesting spot, have you?’

‘That obvious huh?’

Castiel sighed and shook his head with a small, almost sad smile for the other angel. Before Castiel could reach back to him and reply, Gabriel was speaking again.

‘I’m sorry Cassie. It’s just, it’s been almost a whole week and I’ve found nothing. No where feels right and I’m starting to think that perhaps I’m just not made out for this whole hatchling thing!’

Castiel reached out again with warmth and encouragement at how heart-broken Gabriel sounded with that one declaration.

‘No, Gabriel. No. It’s not like that. Mother-Nature chose you for a reason, brother, just as she chose me. You’ll be a great Papa for your hatchling, I know it.’

‘How can I do that if I can’t even find the perfect nesting spot.’

The sob that rocketed through their currently connected grace made Castiel’s heart droop. He couldn’t help but imagine Gabriel sat by himself in a forest clearing, head buried in his knees, wings draped around himself protectively as he sobbed openly. Castiel had to help him.

'Gabriel. Let me help you.’

Gabriel’s sniffing stopped, and the grace turned curious.

'How can you help? This is something that I’m supposed to do alone.’

Castiel knew that. Finding the perfect spot and building the nest was something that was to be done alone by the nesting angel. But there was nothing stopping Gabriel from coming by and getting a feel of Castiel’s own nesting spot.

‘I know. And I won’t help you search. But I can show you my nest. Perhaps this will help you?’

‘No, no. I couldn’t. I would be intruding on you and yours. I can’t do that.’

Castiel smiled and let his grace turn welcoming as it enveloped Gabriel’s.

‘I want to, Gabe. Please. It’s the least I can do.’

‘But what about your hatchling?’

The thought made Castiel glance down at the baby in his arms and he smiled at him again. Castiel could sense the tiny bit of grace inside the babe – the start of what was to come.

‘Dekano? He’s asleep right now. And will be for some time. Now’s a good a time as any.’

Castiel felt when Gabriel gave in and let his whereabouts be known to his brother when the familiar grace tried searching his spot out. In the next second, Gabriel’s grace faded away and Castiel knew that his brother was on the move.

Shifting, Castiel let his wings spread out and stretch. He chuckled at Dekano’s groan of disgust and shushed him, gently moving him down onto the bed of fur pelts. This seemed to upset the hatchling further who, still almost completely asleep, whined and tried to turn into Castiel’s body again, seeking out the warmth.

“Papa,” He grumbled, sounding close to tears as he blinked. Castiel knew though that the babe was so far asleep still that he wasn’t really seeing.

“I know baby,” Castiel shushed him, laying 3 fur pelts over the top of him and using his grace to keep them warm. The poor thing’s body was all over the place at the moment with the change from human to hatchling and hatchlings couldn’t regulate their body temperature properly without the help of their angel parent… especially when they were sleeping. “Papa’s sorry. It’s only for a few moments.”

Dekano face stayed scrunched up, but he seemed to accept the warmth of his Papa’s grace and snuggled further into the blankets. Castiel smiled and let his hands cup the babe’s face, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. That one, gentle touch had Dekano’s features smoothing out, and he let out a happy sigh as he let himself be dragged back into sleep.

Behind him, there was a beating of wings, and Castiel stood, turning in time to see his brother touch down – just outside the nest.

“Cassie.”

Gabriel’s words were spoke in a hushed, amazed whisper as he overlooked the area. Castiel watched him carefully, not saying anything when he realised what exactly was going through Gabriel’s mind… Gabriel had just found his perfect nesting spot.

It wasn’t unheard of, for two angels to share a nest while they were nesting, but it was pretty unusual. It rarely happened, and most angels believed it to be a myth. Castiel knew though, just by looking at his brother, that it very clearly wasn’t.

Castiel had thought that his nest was perfect. He hadn’t felt like anything was missing. But now that Gabriel was stood there, he felt like a hole had been filled – one he hadn’t known was there. Gabriel was meant to be a part of this nest… as was his brother’s hatchling.

“Gabriel.” Castiel took a step forward, his wings widening in welcome.

Gabriel finally settled his gaze on his younger brother, his mouth open in shock.

“I…” His pink tongue darted out and wet his dry, chapped lips. Looking closely, Castiel could see his brother’s red-rimmed eyes and it became obvious that his brother really had been sobbing alone. “Cassie… I don’t know what’s happening – what’s going on?”

Castiel beamed happily and waved his brother closer. For a moment, Gabriel didn’t move, but he let his wings carry him over the threshold of the nest and landed gracefully, almost silently in front of his younger brother.

Neither angel said anything as they looked at each other, and then in the nest second, they wrapped both their arms and wings around one another.

“Welcome home Gabriel.”

~PICTURE THIS~

The brothers sat and chatted everything over for a little while, enjoying the company. Gabriel felt at home, at peace in the nest that his brother had built, and Castiel explained that he’d wondered why he had felt the need to build it as big as he did. Now though, their behaviours made sense to the both of them. Gabriel however still wanted to put his own touch on the nest and he promised Castiel that he would find something to gift him in a way of thanks – even though Castiel continuously refused the offer.

Just as talk was turning to hunting, there was a small whine from behind them.

It made both angel’s stop their conversation and look towards the sleeping area.

The hatchling was stirring, his face scrunched up.

“Papa,” The babe sobbed. “Papa.”

He was blinking slowly and moving his head around as if searching out the man. It was clear that if he didn’t find him soon there were going to be tears.

“Excuse me a moment,” Castiel apologised already on his feet and heading towards his baby. Gabriel watched on in fascination.

“Hey baby,” Castiel shushed approaching the hatchling quickly. “Papa’s here.”

As soon as Castiel came into Dekano’s line of sight, the hatching was attempting to push himself up. He was weak, and his limbs were heavy with sleep, so he didn’t get very far – Castiel knew the grace wasn’t helping with the poor thing’s strength either. He shushed, his heart warming at how cute he was. For a moment, Castiel let him struggle, knowing that trying to intervene could and would upset the hatchling even further, especially while he was still in the transition from human to hatchling and still properly settling into his new life.

When Dekano realised that he wasn’t going anywhere just yet, and still pretty drunk on sleep, the hatchling’s bottom lip started to wobble and Castiel could see the poor things eyes shining with tears.

“Papa!” He wailed, flopping back down, rubbing determinedly at his eyes before reaching out towards the angel.

“Oh baby. There’s a good boy Dekano,” Castiel shushed, knowing that the babe couldn’t yet understand everything that he was saying. He reached down and gently plucked Dekano from under the fur pelts and held him carefully and protectively against his chest. “Papa’s got you.”

“Papa,” Dekano whispered, the tears drying up pretty quickly now he’d got what he wanted. He settled again and Castiel beamed at the amount of trust that he could feel from his hatchling. He reiterated the feeling, mixing his with a wave of love and loving how Dekano preened under it. Castiel knew when the hatchling was more awake he wouldn’t show very much of this current affection and so right now he greedily accepted it.

“Papa,” Dekano hummed again, appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut and his thumb slipping into his mouth. Castiel smiled when he realised that his baby wasn’t quite finished with his nap and just needed to be close to his Papa.

Castiel shushed him and with a mere thought moulded some of his grace into a pacifier shape. Not many hatchlings showed interested in suckling anything other that their angel parents wing for the grace. Those that did often had these special grace-shaped pacifiers.

Castiel gently tugged the hatchling’s thumb from his mouth, which emitted a small whine from him. Castiel shushed and offered the pacifier in its place, pleased when Dekano latched on almost greedily.

The good thing about the grace-shaped pacifiers was that it gave the hatchling a gradual supply of grace every time they suckled on it.

“Oh my gosh!” Gabriel gushed when Castiel settled down next to him once again, the hatchling still safe in his arms. “He’s adorable Cassie.”

Castiel beamed with the praise and his feathers ruffled with pride.

“This is my Dekano,” He hushed, running a soothing hand over the babe’s head and smiling even wider when a happy sigh left the hatchling. “Bit of a handful at times, but he’s everything I could have ever wanted.”

“He looks like he could be a pretty young one, Cassie; think you can handle it?”

“For Dekano, I can handle anything.” Castiel promised, almost cringing at how cheesy he sounded. He ignored Gabriel’s slight chuckle and continued. “No, really – He’s not yet shown any signs of physically regressing, but he certainly has mentally. At least, at times. And I am more than happy that he’s showing signs of being young… it’s something I didn’t know I wanted till I met him.”

“Well, it suits you Cassie, it really suits you,” The truth was raw and evident in Gabriel's voice. “Congratulations brother.”

~PICTURE THIS~

The next day, Gabriel spent time gathering materials and putting together a swinging, raised hammock for the nest. It was his way of saying thank you to Castiel, and of putting his own touch on the nest. It was for Dekano and his future hatchling; to help them sleep. Castiel loved it, especially when Gabriel used his grace (Gabriel’s element was Air) to ensure that whenever Dekano or his own future hatchling was placed inside, it would constantly, gently rock. Castiel made use of it almost straight away.

After that, Gabriel set out to find his hatchling. Before he left, Castiel told him not to get his hopes up too soon; finding the perfect hatchling took time, just like finding the right nesting spot. He reminded his brother that it took three days for himself to find Dekano.

Gabriel kept that in mind, and he set off early that morning. He had no destination in mind, and just let himself go wherever he felt like going. He let his wings carry him through the forest and over Angel’s Hill. He flew over the nearest town, making sure that he stayed invisible to the human eye.

As he walked around the town unnoticed, he felt it – the pull towards his hatchling.

The excitement peaked, and Gabriel hurried to follow the pull. It led him into a building and he knew as soon as he had laid eyes on his baby. Gabriel wanted to take him back to the nest right now, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t alone and that would draw unwanted attention to the angel’s and his flock.

But then he realised that the poor thing was terribly upset. He was talking to a woman who looked important. She stood behind a desk, a pitiful look on her face as she spoke back at him. Gabriel wanted to know what was wrong, what had got the poor thing so upset. He wanted to comfort him and ensure that whatever had upset him would never hurt him like this again.

“I really am sorry Sir, but there is nothing more I can do. If a person is taken by the angels, we are unable to intervene. The angels will fight and they will kill. We have lost too many men that way. And I'm sure you know, once the transformation process begins, the human will die if away from the angel's for too long. Perhaps it's just kinder to leave him there?" 

“But it’s my brother! My brother! Please, you have to help me! I can’t lose him! Dean; he’s all I’ve got!”

Gabriel’s heart broke at the sound of utter despair in his baby’s tone. For the first time in forever, Gabriel wished that he could understand the human language, then he would know what had upset the poor thing so much and could put a stop to whatever it was.

Gabriel promised himself there and then that he would strive to keep his boy a happy bubbly baby. He couldn’t stand him being upset and knew that he would give the poor thing the world if only he could see him smile.

Gabriel knew he was smitten with the boy already. He'd found his hatchling.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Six days ago…

“I also brought you some tins of soup. I’ve opened them all up for you, so all you gotta do is heat them in the microwave. If you feel up to it of course.”

Sam groaned his appreciation from his place, snuggled under the blanket on his bed. He was shivering cold, but knew he was running a fever. His head was pounding, and he was sure if he opened his eye’s he would throw up again. He was also exhausted and right on the edge of sleep still, only awake because his brother had to be up at such a god-awful hour to try and get his work done. It was so early still that there wasn’t even any sign of the sun.

“Hey Sammy?” Dean spoke again, voice closer but a lot quieter.

Sam opened his eyes a crack, just in time to see Dean sit down on the edge of the bed. His brother’s cool hand placed against his forehead, and Sam fluttered his eyes shut and shivered from the cold touch.

Dean took his hand away, a small worried frown etched on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”

“I told you yesterday…” Sam managed to croak out slowly. His throat was raw from how often he had spent chucking up his guts.

“I know, I know. But Sam, we can come back here any time! The angel’s aren’t exactly extinct now, are they?”

“You’re so close though, Dee,” Sam reiterated his point from yesterday. “The video of the angel you caught yesterday? That alone would be enough to get you some pretty decent buck in your pocket and your name recognised. No. You’re too close to your goal. Get out there and get that damned picture. I’ll be fine here by myself.”

“Sam; I don’t think…”

“Dean.”

Dean went quiet, twiddling his fingers and clearly debating everything. Sam could tell that his older brother was in two minds about what to do. He didn’t want Dean to miss out on such an opportunity, especially when he was so close. The fact that he got an actual angel on video was incredible! Sam knew however, that Dean would take them home if he thought that was best – there was no changing Dean’s mind once it was made.

“Please Dean,” Sam whispered. “It’s your dream. Don’t let someone else get there before you do. I can look after myself just fine. I promise.”

Dean still didn’t look sure, but he could tell his brother was being sincere. He quickly came up with a compromise.

“Okay. I’ll go out today. But if you’re no better tomorrow, we go home. No if’s, and’s or but’s. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Sam huffed a sigh, letting his eyes fall closed with the intention of leaving them shut.

“Alright. I’ll be back by 5. And Sam – if you need me, for anything, you damn well call me. Got it?”

“Got it,” Sam muttered. He cracked a single eye open when Dean placed his cell on the bedside table. He felt Dean’s fingers thumb lightly through his hair for a fraction of a second and let himself watch as his brother gathered up his stuff and left their motel room as quietly as he could.

Little did Sam know, that was the last time he would see his brother. At least while he was human.

~PICTURE THIS~

Sam slept all morning and almost all afternoon, only waking once to use the bathroom. He woke properly, for the first time in a day or two, at about 3pm and actually felt like he might like to try and stomach a little of something.

He pottered slowly around the kitchen as he prepared his soup. He sent silent thanks to his brother who had thought ahead and opened a few tins, knowing that Sam would be and feel too weak to open them himself. He sat at the small kitchen table and was pleased with himself when he managed to eat at least a third of the soup before he started to feel nauseous again and pushed the bowl away.

He prayed to anyone that was listening that he wouldn’t throw up what he’d just eaten, sipped on some fresh water and then led back down in bed. He was tired again, but the room was so quiet and eerie, even for the time of day, that he just wanted some background noise. He fumbled around for the TV remote which was on Dean’s side of the bedside table and flicked the TV onto a random channel. He closed his eyes and let the actors voices wash over him and lull him back to sleep.

When he woke again, he actually felt a little better. For once, he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up whenever he moved, and he didn’t feel as feverish. He took it as a good sign that perhaps he was getting better.

The room was dark now, only illuminated by the small TV over in the corner, which was still playing on the channel Sam had left it on. Sam slowly sat up, reaching for the glass of water he had beside him. He took a few small sips to wet his mouth and squinted at the digital alarm clock.

02:34.

The bed beside him should have been housing a Dean shaped lump, conked out and snoring. But the bed was empty. Looking around the crappy motel room, Sam was sure that everything was as he had left it earlier – even down to the half-eaten bowl of now-gone-cold chicken soup. Nothing had been touched. And it meant that Dean hadn’t been back.

Sam grabbed his cell and checked for any missed calls or messages. There was nothing.

He felt his worry pick up some and for a moment just sat in bed, unsure what to do. A beat later, he picked up the phone again and dialled his brother’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“This is Dean Winchester. Leave your name, number and nightmare at the tone.”

Sam cut the phone off before the beep. He got up and made his way to the front window. He pulled the curtain back a bit, hoping and praying that the familiar, sleek, black car was there, but it wasn’t. He bit his lip, thinking about what might have caused his brother to be out so late, and he couldn’t help but think the worst.

He took a few deep breaths and told himself to think rationally. Dean did this shit all the time.

When he’d been a teen, Dean had been famous with the cops, thanks to the countless times they had received calls from a frantic Mary Winchester who called to report Dean missing after a missed curfew and an absent bed all night. Then Dean would stroll back into the house in the early afternoon, looking all cocky for himself, only having to admit that the reason he had been out all night was because he’d been with a girl. Even as an adult, Dean would spontaneously spend all night out with a lady friend without letting anyone know he wouldn’t be home… he never had got the hang of calling.

It was infuriating to say the least, but Sam was certain that it had to be the reason that his brother hadn’t been back. It would explain the missing communication to let him know that he wasn’t going to be back tonight, and the unanswered call. Sam really didn’t have anything to worry about – this was all in his brother’s nature.

Still, Sam couldn’t believe his brother had the gall to wonder off to who knows where with some strange girl he’d never met before while he, his brother, was back at the motel, chucking his guts up. Sam was going to tear him a new one when Dean bothered to show his face again.

Sam dialled his brother’s number again, but this time he left a message.

“Dean, where the hell are you, jerk? How could you do this to me? Is satisfying your dick more important to you than your own fucking, sick, brother? Apparently fucking so! Call me as soon as you get this!”

With a frustrated sigh, Sam let the cell drop from his hand to the bedside table again. He guessed there was nothing he could do about it now, unless he went and tracked his brother down; which he did not feel up to. Dean would come waltzing back in tomorrow, pretending like he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Jerk,” Sam muttered to himself as he climbed back under the covers. He switched the TV off with a yawn and snuggled back down. He didn’t even think of the possibility of something else having happened to his brother, completely confident that he was in fact spending the night with a female.

~PICTURE THIS~

There was a crack in the curtains from where Sam had peaked through them in the early hours of the morning. Now, the 8am sunlight was beaming through and dancing across Sam’s face, gently waking him.

Sam stretched out wide, with a loud groan. He took a moment to allow himself to wake properly and relish in the fact that besides feeling a little weak and slightly hungry, he didn’t feel feverish or sick at all! He sat up and with a smile glanced over at the kitchen, already thinking about the toast he was going to make himself to nibble on.

But as his eyes danced around the motel room, the previous night came crashing back to him.

Dean hadn’t come back last night. And, it seemed like he hadn’t been back this morning either.

Sam would bet a million dollars that Dean had got up at the ass crack of dawn like usual, snuck out of the house before his new lady friend woke up, and made his way to Angel’s Hill without even sparing a single thought to his little brother.

Sam could only imagine the argument that was going to play out later that evening when Dean finally came back.

~PICTURE THIS~

“Dean? Seriously. This isn’t funny anymore!” Sam begged to Dean’s voicemail. “Where the fuck are you? It’s nearly nine, dude!”

Sam said nothing for a minute, just holding the phone to his ear and letting the voicemail pick up on his worried, hurried breathing.

“Dean, please; I’m worried sick. Please come home. Call me, text me. Anything! Just let me know you’re okay!”

His voice cracked with the last word and Sam quickly ended the call. The last thing he needed was for Dean to hear him crying like some baby. The phone was dropped onto the bed and Sam took a moment to gather himself; rubbing his hand down his face and jogging his foot up and down.

“Shit,” Sam muttered, praying and begging to hear the infamous growl of the impala turning into the parking space right outside their motel room. But there was nothing but silence. “Come on Dean…”

Sam was so close to putting some boots on his feet, putting a jacket over his shoulders and going to track his brother down himself. But it was too dark, and it was teeming down with rain. He knew logically that he’d never find him at the moment. And there was still a nagging doubt that his brother was at some dingy bar, or with another girl, and was going to walk through the door at any moment. It was also plausible that Dean had been arrested for something as stupid as speeding, and then sassing the cop that pulled him over; it had happened before. So, Sam was even hesitant to call the police and report him missing.

Sam, however, was feeling a lot better in himself. He had managed to keep his toast down this morning and had actually finished a whole bowl of soup this afternoon. His fever was all but gone and he was almost feeling back to himself now, which was great! Except, with his brother still missing like this, he still felt nauseous – just not in the ill sense.

Sam knew he could do with a shower, but he didn’t like going to the bathroom to use the toilet, let alone be in there long enough to wash. He didn’t want to chance Dean coming in while he was locked away in the bathroom.

So, with nothing better to do but worry silly over his brother’s safety, Sam led back down on his bed – on top of the fresh bedsheets he had requested from housekeeping earlier that morning and waited.

~PICTURE THIS~

Sam had waited up till nearly 1am, before sleep had overtaken him. Even then he had fought to stay awake, scared his brother was going to come in and he would have missed it. He knew if he hadn’t had spent the last few days so poorly then he would have been more than capable of doing an all-nighter, but because his body was tired and weak, he had easily lost his battle with sleep.

He slept well considering everything though. But the panic hit him like a train the moment his eyes snapped opened to the 7:24am sun.

“Dean?” He croaked, voice calling out experimentally, even though he knew his brother still wasn’t back.

Sitting up slowly, Sam gathered his bearings and with a huge sigh, pushed up from the bed. He took a moment to dial Dean’s number, thinking that maybe this time his brother would answer and be all bitchy because Sam disturbed him while he was working. But again, it went straight through to voicemail.

Sam didn’t even bother leaving a message. He didn’t know what else he could say to the answerphone that he hadn’t already… and he knew he would start crying.

He couldn’t bring himself to completely admit that his brother was probably missing. He tried thinking of any reason, any at all, as to why his brother might be ignoring him and had left him here. Maybe he’d just had enough and decided to abandon him? It was an extreme thought, he knew. Perhaps though, Dean had just decided that he didn’t want to be around Sam when he was so sick and had been staying in another motel room?

Sam knew that logically he was just trying to kid himself, but until he had personally gone up to Angel’s Hill himself to see if Dean was hurt up there or something, with a dead phone, then he was not going to even contemplate the word ‘missing’.

He waited and waited until he couldn’t wait no more. He showered, dressed and scribbled out a quick note to his brother in case Dean came back to the motel room while he was out looking for him and was out the door in record speed.

~PICTURE THIS~

It was almost late afternoon by the time he made it up Angel’s Hill to the small camp that he and Dean had put together back when they’d first arrived. He was half expecting to see Dean huddled against the tree, his camera at the ready, eyes searching the sky for any sign of what might possibly be an angel.

But the camp was completely empty.

In fact, it looked like it had been empty for a few days. The only sign that Dean had been here at all recently was the backpack, full of uneaten food. Sam desperately searched for anything that might give him clues as to where his brother might be, but apart from the fact that the food was uneaten, there was nothing.

“Come on Dean… just give me a sign! Anything!” Sam muttered, as he stood, overlooking his brother’s meagre belongings. He tried to think over his brother’s plan, but even when he had been well, he’d barely paid any attention to the photography mumble-jumble that came out of Dean’s mouth. Dean was the photographer, Sam was just his agent.

And then Sam remembered that his brother had caught a brief, 30 second video of the angel on the night-vision camera he’d set up. He spun on his heal, actually smiling when the camera was still strapped to the tree. He ripped it down, his heart beating so rapidly in anticipation that he thought it just might burst out of his chest. Maybe, just maybe, this camera had caught a glimpse of what had happened to Dean.

It took a second to figure out the right controls, but soon Sam was scrolling through the last few days of footage on fast forward. The only thing the camera ever caught though were a few owls, Dean sitting in the camp of hours on end and not very much of anything else.

“God damn it,” Sam cursed, wanting to throw the camera against the tree. He almost screamed in frustration, looking out all around the hill and the surrounding areas.

This was it. He had to admit it to himself.

Dean was missing.

~PICTURE THIS~

“Good evening Sir,” The police officer at the reception desk greeted him. “How can I help you?”

“Yeah, uh,” Sam shuffled up to the desk and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I need to report my brother missing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” The officer offered sympathetically. “Let me just get some paperwork printed off to fill out and we’ll go from there.”

“Uh, thanks,” Sam muttered, watching as the officer sat himself down and started clicking away at the outdated computer.

It didn’t take long. The officer had the forms he needed printed out and attached them to a clipboard in under 3 minutes. He grabbed a pen, clicked it almost dramatically and then fixed Sam with a sad smile. He took Sam’s name, age, address and current whereabouts when he learnt that Sam wasn’t from this area and then began asking him questions about Dean.

“And Dean’s your brother?” The officer asked as he quickly wrote down Dean’s name, seconds after Sam had just told him it.

“Yeah.”

“And how old is he?”

“Twenty-eight.”

The officer paused but didn’t write anything down.

“And how long has he been missing?”

“3 days,” Sam answered confidently, but suddenly grew anxious. Moments previously, the officer had barley let his pen leave the paper. Now he wasn’t writing anything down and just kept looking at Sam as if he was stupid.

“Does your brother have, or suffer from anything that could or does make him vulnerable?”

“… no.”

The officer sighed.

“Look Mr Winchester, I’m terribly sorry. But unfortunately, if he’s not classed as vulnerable or if he is over the age of eighteen, we cannot file a missing person’s report until he has been missing for a week.”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “You don’t understand; this is my brother. Dean doesn’t always come home, but he always checks in by now!”

“Maybe he’s just forgotten to?” The officer suggested, trying to keep Sam’s spirits up and stop him from thinking of the worst. “Perhaps his phone is dead?”

“We’re from out of town,” Sam reiterated, trying to think of anything that might get them to look for his brother now, and not in a week. “My brother’s here on business. He wouldn’t just disappear like this!”

“He might just be caught up with work,” The officer offered lightly, with an underlying tone of understanding. “Look, you have my deepest condolences; really, you do. But, give it 4 more days. If you’ve still not seen or heard from your brother, come back we’ll be able to help then. I hope, however, that we won’t see you back here.”

For all anyone knew, Dean was lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or had been kidnapped off the streets on his way back to the motel the other night? Maybe he’d had an accident or lost control of the car and had driven off the road.

Unable to wait five more days for the police to pull themselves together and get a search party out for his brother, Sam decided to start his own investigation. He went straight back to the motel after his visit to the police station and had phoned around the local hospitals and the morgue; he didn’t know whether it was a good thing or not that they hadn’t admitted anyone of Dean’s description.

After that, Sam dashed over to the small 24hour shop across the street and brought maps of the town. He worked late into the evening, retracing his and Dean’s steps on the map and circling places where Dean might have gone without him while he had been ill.

Before he knew it, it was gone midnight. As Sam sat back in the creaky chair he’d been perched in all afternoon and really noticed the absence of his brother.

Sam spent the whole of the next day visiting all the places that he’d highlighted on the town map the other night. The local café, the library, the small camera shop on the corner just so Dean could geek out at everything on offer. He showed everyone he could a picture of Dean but no one, anywhere, was able to tell him that they’d seen Dean recently.

After a long day of trailing across the town (that was a lot bigger than he’d first thought) Sam began making his way back to the motel room. He needed food and sleep and had a plan to start making missing person flyers to put up around town and to hand round to the locals.

But then he walked past a dingy, almost run-down looking bar. The name caught his eye, and he had a sudden flashback of Dean telling him that he’d visited the place back when they’d first arrived. Sam wondered how he had missed this bar when he had been mapping out the town.

‘Angel’s Heaven.’

Slowly and cautiously Sam pushed the door open and peered inside.

The place didn’t look half bad on the inside, considering what it looked like on the outside. There was a half-modern, almost cosy feel to it, and some soft rock was playing quietly out of some speakers in each corner of the room. Off to the side was a pool table and a dart board, a pin-ball machine too, if Sam wasn’t mistaken. Sam knew that this was Dean would have felt right at home here.

The only other thing was that it was pretty much empty. Only 3 of the tables were occupied, a greying man was lazily throwing darts at the dartboard and apart from the bartender the only other person in the place was an older, gruff looking man sat at the bar nursing a whiskey.

Sam knew that he was an outsider, that he wasn’t here for a drink or some bar snacks and that he probably looked really out of place; he didn’t need the looks he received from the locals to tell him that much. But still, he knew Dean had been here and so it wasn’t going to hurt to ask around.

“Hey there,” The bartender smiled at him, flicking her long hair over her shoulder. “What can I get for ya?”

Sam startled for a moment, as if the woman asking him what drink he wanted in the middle of the bar was the weirdest thing ever, before he quickly regained his composure.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t want anything,” His voice sounded harsh, and he quickly couched to clear his throat. When he spoke again, he made a conscious effort to try and not sound so threatening. “I was just wondering if you could help me, maybe?”

“Well, I can sure try, sugar,” The bartender spoke kindly, waving him over.

Sam stepped up to the bar with ease and confidence, hoping that soon the locals would get bored with the new customer and go back to whatever they were doing before. Sam rested his arms on the bar but quickly pulled away again at the sticky feeling. The woman chuckled, apologised and grabbed a cloth before she began wiping the bar down.

“So,” She started. “How can I help?”

“My brother,” Sam explained, voice full of so much concern and worry in just those two words that the bartender’s eyes softened immediately. “He’s missing. We’re uh, we’re from out of town you see; here on business. I know he came in here when we first arrived a few days back and I was wondering if you might have seen him?”

“Do you have a picture of him?” The woman asked.

Sam fished his cell out of his pocket and quickly pulled up a picture of Dean. He slid the phone across the now clean bar for the bartender to look at.

“I’m sorry sugar,” She frowned with a small shake of her head. “He must have come in when I was off-shift. I haven’t seen him around.”

“No, no. That’s okay,” Sam tried to reassure her, but he couldn’t keep the disappointment from his tone as his heart dropped. “It’s worth a shot.”

“You’re more than welcome to ask around,” The woman offered, waving her hand in the direction of the meagre customers currently in the bar. “And if you get the picture printed out, I’m more than happy to stick it up and ask the other guys working here too. Someone’s bound to have seen him.”

“Thank you,” Sam smiled sadly, grabbing his phone and moving to stand up again.

“I’ve seen him.”

Both Sam and the woman’s head’s snapped to the left. The ruff, older looking man sat there. He said nothing more but kept direct eye-contact with Sam as he lifted his whiskey glass and downed the rest of it in one.

“Be a doll, Daisy,” He ordered lightly, pushing the glass in the bartender’s direction. The woman quickly got to work, and the man waved Sam closer. “Here, let me see that picture of your brother properly.”

Sam hurried to comply, his heart thumping in excited anticipation. Finally, someone who had seen his brother… this man might not know where Dean was, but any information would help at this point.

“Yeah,” The man hummed. “I’ve seen him. About 7 days back now.”

“That’s when we arrived,” Sam hushed, unable to take his eyes from the man, as if scared everything was just an illusion and that he was just going to disappear any second.

The man spoke a small thanks to Daisy as he accepted his topped up whiskey before addressing Sam again.

“The name’s Bobby.”

“Sam,” Sam offered. “Did you speak with my brother at all?”

“For quite some time actually,” Bobby nodded. “We spoke about the business he was here to conduct, and I gave him a little advice.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him he was as good as dead if he went up there.”

“Where?” Sam gulped. “Angel’s Hill?”

“Yup. That place is a god damned death trap. It’s called Angel’s Hill for a reason.” Bobby shook his head. “How long’s he been missing, son?”

“Four days now,” Sam explained. “I accompanied him up to Angel’s Hill a few times, but then I came down with something and Dean started going up alone. Four days ago, he went, and he just never came back.”

“I told him, I said to him; not everyone goes up to Angel’s Hill and lives to tell the tale. Hardly anyone goes up there no-more for that exact reason. They might as well rename the damned thing; ‘Abandoned Angel’s Hill.’,” Bobby grunted, took a sip of his drink and then softened his features at Sam’s next question.

“You think he’s dead?”

“Not dead, no,” Bobby sighed. “But he might as well be.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, almost panicked. He knew what Bobby was implying, but he needed to hear it, he needed to be certain. It was an idea that he hadn’t actually considered just yet.

“There’s only one place your bother is and that’s with the angels. And I don’t mean in the heavenly sense either.”

Sam watched Bobby carefully for a minute, while he let the man’s words sink in. Bobby’s tone had been heavy with sorrow and regret and Sam immediately realised something.

“You’re speaking from experience,” Sam muttered. “You’ve been through this.”

Bobby scoffed, picked up his glass and took a large gulp. He didn’t look back up at Sam and instead just stared unblinkingly at the last few mouthfuls of whiskey.

“Her name was Charlie. She was my niece, but I raised her. She was like my own,” The heartbreak in Bobby’s voice was raw.

“I’m so sorry.”

“They say it gets easier. It doesn’t. It’s been six years. Not a day goes by when I don’t think of her.”

Sam didn’t know what to say.

“Your brother, Dean, he reminded me so much of my Charlie. She was always looking for her next big adventure. Stubborn. Driven. Loyal. She said goodbye to me one day before she trundled off to work and she never came back. I went looking for her, found her too…”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It took months to find her, and by that time it was too late. I couldn’t bring her home with me. I went in planning a rescue attempt but left empty handed. How I managed to leave alive at all will always baffle me. I mean, sure, she was pleased to see me but…” Bobby shook his head, fighting back the tears as he retold his story. He hadn’t spoken about it for quite some time, and he didn’t open up about it to just anyone… but for some reason, telling Sam felt right. “She couldn’t leave her angel. When I found her, she already had wings. It was too late… and damn it Sam, you should have seen how happy she was… If I had taken her away, it would have broken her. I hate thinking it but Charlie? She’s where she belongs now.”

Sam had so many questions that he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find his voice. Instead he looked on at Bobby, unable to form words to try and comfort the older man.

“If the angel’s do have your brother, then you’ve got to try and let him go. It’s hard, so damn hard, but it would be for the best. For everyone. He’s just not coming back.”

~PICTURE THIS~

The next day, with Bobby’s story still fresh in his mind, Sam marched straight back up to Angel’s Hill to reassess the situation.

If Bobby was right, and Dean had been taken by the angel’s then shouldn’t there be some sort of evidence. Evidence of a struggle at least? Sam knew that Dean wouldn’t go down without a fight, but again, everything was perfect… untouched and forgotten about.

“Come on Dean, where are you?” He whispered to himself, unable to overlook his brothers belongings any more. Instead, he cast his gaze over the forest and beyond. He could see mountains and trees for as far as the eye could see.

And then as suddenly as if he’d been hit by a bus, Sam remembered. Dean had begged to go down to the forest at the bottom of the hill! He had been desperate to trundle through the trees hoping that they would just stumble across an angel that way. The only thing that had been stopping him was Sam… and while Sam had spent the last few days unwell, Dean had been up here alone with no one stopping him for venturing down there.

Sam didn’t need to weigh up the pros and cons of exploring the forest and before he knew it he was venturing down the hill and towards the trees hoping that there might be any clue to where his brother had gone off to – and praying that it wasn’t with the angels.

Although Sam had planned to keep an open mind, he hadn’t actually thought he would find anything in the forest. But he’d barely stepped through a break in the trees when he noticed something plastic lying amongst fallen leaves and twigs.

He almost didn’t stop to investigate it, thinking that it was probably any old rubbish some teenager had dropped or something. But he would forever be grateful that he had stopped. For when he brushed the leaves away, it was Dean’s camera staring up at him.

Sam almost sobbed in relief. This was the biggest clue that he’d stumbled across so far! He picked the object up from the floor and dusted it off, picking off a snail and placing it back delicately on the tree closest to him.

Turning the camera around in his hands, Sam noticed that the lens was cracked and the plastic dented. It was clear that it had been dropped from some height. Without wasting another second, Sam turned the camera on, hoping that it still had some battery in it and that it wasn’t so severely damaged that it didn’t work.

By some miracle though, it did. The loading screen came on and Sam could have sung. He pulled up the photos that were stored on the 2TB memory card. The very first photo that came up, and so the last photo to be taken, was on the screen for him to look at and try to work out.

It was very blurry, and dark. Sam could make out that it was taken in the forest. He could make out a flash of pale skin and an unmistakeable green tint that could only be Dean’s eye. And behind him, black wings.

His heart sunk when he realised what this meant.

Dean had been taken by an angel.

~PICTURE THIS~

His very next stop had been the police station again. This time, manning the front desk was a tall, greying woman. She welcomed Sam in much the same fashion as the man had the other day, introducing herself as the town’s sheriff. Sam explained his situation again, and while she was rather sympathetic, she reiterated what the male Officer had said.

“But I went looking for him!” Sam exclaimed. “I went looking for him and I found evidence of his abduction.”

“If you have valid evidence then we could certainly look at getting a case opened a lot sooner, if not immediately,” The woman explained kindly, inviting Sam to share his evidence.

The woman said nothing for a minute when Sam pulled up the picture from the still muddy camera. Sam’s words were rushed, his breathing anxious as he tried to clarify what was going on in the picture.

“You think an angel has taken your brother?” She asked softly after his explanation.

“Think? Ma’am, I know! My brother was on Angel’s Hill; this is his camera. I found it within the forest surrounding the hill… there are god-damn, freaking wings in this picture! So, I don’t think my brother was abducted by an angel… I know!”

“Well, looking at the picture, I can assume you’re mostly right. From what I can tell from this picture, there are wings of some sort, and they do look large enough to belong to an angel.”

“I knew it,” Sam hushed, feeling a sense of accomplishment settling over him with this confirmation. “Is this enough evidence to open a missing person’s case?”

The sheriff’s face dropped and she gently placed Dean’s camera on the desk in front of her.

“Mr Winchester, I’m so sorry. I’m afraid to tell you that we cannot open a missing person’s case for your brother.”

“You mean you can’t open one right now?” Sam whispered, fearing her answer.

The woman shook her head softly.

“I’m so sorry Mr Winchester, but we will be unable to open a missing person’s case indefinitely.”

Sam swallowed around the lump that was quickly forming in his throat. He tried to blink away the stinging in his eyes.

“Why?! What do you mean! You’re the police! You need to help me! You need to find him!” Sam heaved a loud sob, not even attempting to hide when his voice broke, the sound of his heartbreak and upset becoming clearer and clearer.

“Unfortunately, when there is evidence of angel involvement we cannot interfere.”

“THAT’S BULL!” Sam screamed, his eyes and face shiny and wet with his tears. He slumped in the plastic chair he’d been offered and sobbed into his hands. He was so tired and weak still from where he was still regaining his energy and there was so much stress, so much worry, heartache and concern for his brother… and everywhere he turned for help just pushed him away.

“I understand you are upset Mr Winchester; I cannot begin to imagine what you much be going through. I have seen this happen far too many times for my liking, and this conversation I’m having with you right now does not get any easier, no matter how many times I have to go through it. But please know you have my deepest sympathy, and while we may not be unable to help your brother, we can help you,” The Sheriff riffled around for a minute on her side of the desk and pulled out a leaflet and a business card. “We work very closely with ‘You Are Not Alone’; a charity that offers help, advice, counselling, friendship; whatever you might need throughout this hard time, and even after…”

Sam interrupted her, voice low and gruff.

“The only way you can help me is by finding my brother!”

“I really am sorry, Sir, but there really is nothing more I can do. Once a person is taken by the angel’s, we are unable to intervene. The angel’s will fight and kill; and they have. We have lost too many men that way,” The woman shook her head, but she seemed to know that this piece of information wouldn’t change Sam’s mind about her helping find his missing brother. “And I’m sure you are aware that once the angel starts the transformation process, the human will die if kept away from the angel for too long… Perhaps it would just be kinder to leave him there?”

“But it’s my brother! My brother! Please! You have to help me! I can’t lose him! Dean; he’s all I’ve got! He can’t be gone; he can’t!”

Sam begged and pleaded with all his might, for much longer than he probably should have. But most states were the same… police forces could not get involved with the angel’s once they took a human to become their hatchling. Sam couldn’t believe this had happened to him, to Dean… you heard of horror stories like this, and as much as the fear of it happened had been on the forefront of his mind the whole time, he’d never thought it would actually happen! It was one of those things that you thought would never happen to you… until it does. And it was awful; heartbreakingly awful.

He left the police station eyes red and tearstained, stray tears still escaping down his cheeks. In his hand he clutched a crumpled up tissue and the leaflet the Sheriff had offered him with a phone number scribbled on the back.

It was almost pitch black when he stepped out onto the street. He stepped to the side to let a few teenagers brush past him and took a moment to try and compose himself. He read the leaflet over quickly, before scrunching his face up in disgust at it. He didn’t need a charity to get through this. Dean was still out there, Dean was still alive; he had to be. So, what if he was already on his way to becoming an angel or whatever… he was still Sam’s brother!

Sam looked to the mountains in the distance and knew what he had to do. He would get up at first light tomorrow and would find Dean if it was the last thing he did.

Sam begin walking away from the police station but looked back over his shoulder. There was no one behind him, or anywhere actually. The street lamps were on and the road deserted, but still Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

~PICTURE THIS~

Now…

Dean had been a bit spooked when he’d woken from his nap to find the other angel there.

“One angel is enough, Papa. Now I’ve got two of you to deal with?” But Papa didn’t listen to him, he’d just smiled, nodded and chattered back to him in the language that Dean still couldn’t understand.

That evening, Papa was been busy over a small simmering fire just outside of the nest. He was cooking up what looked to be the last of the meat that he had saved back. It smelled amazing, and Dean watched for a moment over the edge of the nest like he did every evening, wondering if tonight would be the night he would be allowed some actual food.

Papa kept smiling over at him softly and would wonder over to him whenever he could leave the meat for a moment, to smooth his hands through Dean’s hair. Having the angel’s fingers gently running over his scalp was quite nice and his grumbles of complaint always turned into murmurs of pleasure.

The other angel was in the nest with him, while Papa was busy cooking. Dean hadn’t paid him no mind to begin with, still unsure what to make of him and wanting to stick close to Papa.

Dean kept looking over his shoulder to make sure that the angel stayed on what was clearly becoming his side of the nest. Whenever the other angel caught him looking though, he would smile at him kindly.

“Papa,” Dean called when the other angel waved at him softly. Papa was stoking the fire with a large stick but paused for a brief second to look round at him before he resumed his task.

“… Dekano.” He called over to him softly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered, always bitter that he couldn’t understand every word Papa spoke to him; it was frustrating. “Just…” Dean looked back over his shoulder to the other angel, but he had his back turned this time and was doing something with the fur pelts on his side of the nest. “Who is he and what is he doing here?”

Papa chuckled at him kindly and chattered back. Dean knew the angel hadn’t understood a word he’d said and was just trying to ‘make conversation’ with him. Dean sighed, shook his head and slipped back down further into the nest once more. He grabbed his favourite fur pelt and wrapped it around himself to keep the chill off.

He was always cold now, unless he was close to Papa or wrapped in the fur. And this particular fur pelt, which Dean had come to think of as his, his blanket, was always warm and always made him feel like he was surrounded by his Papa; although Dean suspected that was Papa’s fault, sure the angel had used his mojo or whatever to make it feel that way.

Dean snuggled down further into his blanket, but kept his eyes trained on the other angel. He still wasn’t sure about him.

And then the other angel started towards him slowly. He was chattering and talking to him, but the words meant nothing. Dean tried to remain calm, a call for Papa on the tip of his tongue. His heart beat a little faster in apprehension to what the other angel was about to do.

He stopped a few feet away from Dean and crouched down. His body language was calm and kind and open. When he spoke, his voice was soft and quiet as if he was scared, he might spook Dean.

And then the other angel held his left hand out. Dean watched him carefully, unsure of what to expect. But then his eyes went wide in surprise when a mini tornado appeared, dancing across the other angel’s palm.

“Woah,” Dean hushed, instantly relaxing a little and leaning forward slightly.

The other angel was smiling wide; his little plan to get Dean to warm up to him was working. He spoke, a word Dean didn’t understand, and waved him closer.

Dean let his blanket drop from around his shoulders and scrambled the few feet towards the other angel on his hands and knees. Slowly he reached his hand out to touch it but stopped a hairs breath away from it, unsure if he as allowed to touch.

The other angel chattered to him kindly and nodded in encouragement. Dean looked to him to make sure he’d understood him correctly and then let his fingers brush over the mini tornado.

As soon as he did, the tornado moved over Dean’s hands and up his arm. Dean laughed at the feel of it on his bare skin and tried to follow it with his eyes. Then the tornado was on his head, making his hair fly in all directions. Dean shrieked in delight, laughing as if he was being tickled and tried to catch the wind in his hands.

Gabriel laughed warmly along with the hatchling, as the babe fell backwards and chased the tornado over his body. Dekano was completely adorable but had been cautious of his presence in the nest all afternoon. It was only to be expected of course; all Dekano had known was this nest and his Papa and to have that breached by a strange angel would unsettle any hatchling.

But Gabriel hadn’t wanted his relationship with his younger brother’s hatchling to be like that and had spent the afternoon trying to get him to warm up to him with small smiles and kind words. He was overjoyed with the laughter he was getting from Dekano now, hoping that this would get the baby to relax around him a little more.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel caught Cas stood at the edge of the nest looking in at them both. Their eye’s connected over the small space and both angel’s beamed wide at each other at the sweet sound of the hatchling’s laughter.

~PICTURE THIS~

After that, Dean warmed up to the other angel easily. He still didn’t know what his name was yet, but he had become an almost constant presence in the nest and having him there felt right… and it hadn’t even been two days yet.

The other angel had large, rich chocolate wings with a few grey feathers here and there and they were always warm and soft whenever he danced the tips of them over Dean’s bare belly. He was happy and smiley, and Dean found it all very contagious, unable to stop smiling back at the other angel.

The other angel had spent the early morning with a sharp, knife like object and a piece of wood. He carved away at it in the rising sunlight and was still working on it when Dean woke up. Dean had watched him carefully, finding it therapeutic as the wood he was working on started to take shape.

Papa had fed him his morning helping of grace and then sat behind him as he watched the other angel, running fingers through his hair, and chattering things to him every now and then. Most of the talk that morning though was between the two angels. Dean had no idea what they were saying to each other, but their tones were nice and soothing to listen to and Dean found himself more relaxed than he had been since he’d arrived in this nest… and how long ago was that exactly?

When the other angel was finished what he was doing he approached Dean and held the item out to him.

Dean took it carefully, on instinct, and turned it over in his hands. It was a wooden toy bird. Dean didn’t know what to think of it to begin with, but he couldn’t find it in himself to put it down or give it back.

Papa spoke to him, Dean heard his name… well, what he guessed was his angel name, Dekano, and then Papa’s hands came around him and gently touched the wooden figure. There was a moment when Papa’s finger’s glowed blue and then the wooden toy came alive it Dean’s hands.

It was like a real bird! It shook it’s wooden wings, and flew out of Dean’s hands, flying in circles around him. Dean was intrigued with it and watched it in awe as it darted from him to the other angel to him again and then across to the other side of the nest.

For a moment, Dean was worried the small wooden bird would fly out of the nest, but it turned just at the last minute and flew patterns around the nest. Dean watched as the other angel caught it easily in his hand, like it was a golden snitch or something, without even having to anticipate it’s next movement.

“Hey!” Dean pouted, reaching forward towards the other angel for the wooden, flying bird back.

The other angel said something and handed the toy bird back to Dean. Dean was disappointed when instead of a flying bird, the wooden toy was still again. There were absolutely no signs of it having previously been flying.

“Papa, make it fly again!” Dean demanded, his tone betraying how upset he was about it. Papa shushed him and then guided Dean’s hand until it was flat with the wooden bird resting in the middle of his palm. Papa leant over his shoulder and blew gently over the wooden toy.

Instantly the bird sprung back to life, stretching out it’s wooden wings before taking flight again. Dean laughed in delight at the toy as it flew around both him and Papa. It wasn’t in the air as long as the first time, Papa catching it this time.

Before Dean could protest though, Papa showed him the once again still toy, before he blew over it softly. The bird was back in the air within seconds.

The other angel caught it again after a few minutes and did the same thing Papa did; with a tiny puff of air that wooden bird had taken flight again.

Dean was starting to get the idea! You were meant to catch it. And when you did the wooden toy would fall still and rigid again until you blew over it. Dean watched as the angel’s caught it a few more times and let the bird come to life all over again.

The third time Papa caught it, he handed it back to Dean and spoke.

“Dekano… go.”

Dean blinked at him for a minute. One, because ‘go’ was a new word, and two because although he didn’t understand all of Papa’s chatter, it didn’t take a genius to work out what the angel was saying. It was his turn.

“Go?” Dean asked carefully and softly.

Papa’s face burst into a huge smile, the same smile it did every time he learnt a new word and the two angels chattered more; praising and congratulating him if their tone’s were anything to go by.

“Dekano’s go,” Papa nodded confirmation after a moment. Dean almost froze again when he realised he’d just understood a whole sentence! Okay, it was only two words, but it was still a sentence! He was giddy with excitement now and let out a nervous laugh.

“Dekano’s go,” Dean repeated enthusiastically. He let the bird rest on his flat palm and with eager apprehension he blew over the wooden toy. A happy noise left his throat when it took flight and Dean watched it for a moment before waiting for it to fly closer to him for him to catch.

It wasn’t as easy as it looked though and Dean missed the wooden bird 4 times before the bird stayed on the other side of the nest, as if taunting him. Dean pushed himself up and started chasing after it. He tumbled a few times in the fur pelts but didn’t hurt himself.

He caught the bird 10 minutes later, when it chose to land right on the edge of the nest. Dean felt the toy seize up once it was in his hand and although the sensation was weird, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

“Papa!” He called out, holding the wooden toy between his thumb and forefinger. “I caught it Papa!”

Papa chattered to him with a huge smile on his face, having not moved from the place where Dean had been sat with him before he started chasing the bird.

The game was fun, and Dean wasted no time blowing a puff of air over the bird to start it all over again.

~PICTURE THIS~

Not long later, the other angel left the nest. Dean stopped chasing the bird, watching as the other angel flew off into the distance. It was strange watching him leave after he had practically become a part of their little nest already. He wasn’t exactly sad to see him go, but he certainly wasn’t happy about it either.

Papa seemed to sense this to some degree and crouched down beside him. He placed a soft hand on Dean’s head. He chattered away to him, and Dean looked over to him with wide eyes.

“Where’s he gone Papa? Is he coming back?” Dean asked instinctively, before balking at the idea that he wanted the other angel to come back.

Papa obviously didn’t understand his words, but he seemed to understand the tone of Dean’s voice and he shushed him.

The bird was flying around them now, almost as if it was getting impatient of the lull in their game. But Dean didn’t want to play no more and ignored the flying wooden toy. Papa reached out and with no effort had the bird in his hand.

Instead of handing it back to Dean though, he placed it on the floor beside him. Then he slid his hand’s under Dean’s arms and lifted him from the floor.

“Woah! Papa!” Dean protested, still not completely used to the feeling of vertigo being suddenly picked up caused him. Papa just shushed him some more, settled him on his hip and started bouncing him gently like one would a fussy baby as he walked back over to the sleeping area.

“Papa,” Dean groaned when the angel settled back against the built up fur pelts and manhandled Dean until he was laying in his arms. Dean knew what this meant. “No!” He pushed away at the firm chest he was held up against. “It’s too early for a nap, god damn it!”

Of course, Dean’s struggling was nothing to the angel. It was like Dean wasn’t even moving or weighed nothing. Dean didn’t actually know what the time was, but he just knew this was earlier than his usual nap time. He wasn’t keen on napping throughout the day as it was, so to be forced into an early one was just humiliating.

“Dekano,” Papa spoke softly, rocking him carefully. “… hungry baby?”

“No!” Dean spat, still pushing. “I’m not a fucking hungry baby!”

“Papa…” The angel chattered to him, hushing him gently. Then he held out a wing tip to Dean, who pushed it away.

“I said I’m not hungry Papa!” Dean exclaimed loudly, his frustration building.

“Papa… Dekano… baby…”

Dean had no clue what the angel was saying and was distraught when he realised he couldn’t stop the building tears that were stinging his eyes.

“Papa, no; please! I don’t want to nap yet! I want to play with the bird!”

Papa chattered some more and offered the wing again.

“No!” Dean cried, turning away from the feathers. He didn’t want any grace right now! It would make him sleep god damn it!

And then Dean froze up in thought. Why was Papa trying to put him down for an early nap? He was a sucker for routine; it was something Dean had learnt early on; he was always fed, bathed and put to bed at the same times every day. Why the sudden change?

Papa sighed, clearly desperate to get Dean to sleep. He looked over at the opposite corner of the nest where the food rations were kept (now with a mojo forcefield or something to stop Dean rummaging after Papa had to lift him away from the food for the fifth time the other day). Dean followed his gaze and realized that they were low. There was no meat at all, and the rabbit food was quickly disappearing too. And with two angels in the nest now, it was going to be consumed faster.

Papa needed to go on a supply run!

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. Papa was putting him down for an early nap so that he could go out and get more food! That meant, with the other angel doing who knows what, the nest was going to be empty… for the first time in what felt like forever.

Dean didn’t know how long he’d been here exactly, but it felt like a lifetime ago since his first and only escape attempt. Just the thought of it made him long to see Sammy again, and with the vision of his brother fresh in his mind, Dean let himself be moulded how Papa wanted him.

“Papa?” He called, making his voice sound apologetic. He forced a yawn when Papa turned his big blue eyes back to him and his face instantly softened.

“Dekano,” Papa shushed, dancing fingertips over Dean’s face. Dean made a show of worming his way further into Papa’s chest and the angel shushed him with a small smile. When he offered his wing tip for a third time, Dean latched on easily and started drinking down the grace.

He knew so much of it would make him sleepy, but he wasn’t going to let himself get to that point. He was however going to let Papa think him to that point.

Papa was obviously eager to get going as he didn’t feed Dean for as long as he usually did. Instead he pulled the wing tip from his hatchling’s mouth and instead replaced it with a grace paci.

Dean was feeling the first dregs of sleep creeping up on him, but he was determined to stay awake. He let Papa wrap him up in his blanket and place him in the hammock thing that the other angel had put together the other day.

It was easy to feign sleep when he was this comfy, and when Dean heard the beating of Papa’s wings carrying him into the air and away from the nest, he almost chose to stay where he was. It was warm, and he just didn’t want to move.

But then he thought of Sam and how he was probably going out of his mind by now trying to locate him. He had to know Sammy was safe too, damn it.

With that, Dean forced himself to spit out the pacifier that was giving him a continuous flow of grace. He had to wriggle himself free from his blanket, which wasn’t easy; doubled with the movement of the hammock made it twice as difficult… but he managed it.

He hopped out of the hammock and thought about his next cause of action. He wasn’t sure just what to, after all this was a spontaneous escape attempt. Since the first time he’d not really thought about running. Okay, he didn’t like how he was treated much like an infant or kept naked apart from the small animal hide shorts that he wore continuously and the fact that he had to nap during the day! But, and Dean didn’t know why, he felt a connection to Papa. He guessed it was to do with the grace he was consuming, and maybe the handprint mark that was burned onto his skin.

Dean could only make guesses. He knew that there was barely any correctly confirmed facts about angel’s in the human world, and he barely knew any of them. Sam though? Sam was smart and probably knew everything.

Dean was torn. He didn’t want to stray from this nest; it had become a safe place or sorts; and he didn’t want to leave Papa. But just taking him like that? It was wrong! He reminded himself though that he did not want this. Still, it didn’t convince him to move.

Instead he thought of Sammy. His little brother going out of his mind until he found Dean again… because that’s what he’d do. Dean wondered whether Sam had worked out Dean was with the angel’s yet… and if he had, had he given up his search? Angel’s and hatchling’s weren’t accepted into human society and were banished as soon as the first trace of grace passed their lips. He knew though that Sammy wouldn’t do that to him though, not in a million years. They’d find a way to reverse this; they would find a way to fix this. There had to be a way!

With his mind made up, he pushed himself up the wall of the nest and over the other side. He didn’t have any clothes to change into this time, each item being burnt by a fire Papa had built after his first failed escape attempt.

He wouldn’t fail this time; he had to see his brother at least, just to make sure that he was okay… to reassure him that he was fine and that everything was going to work out because they would be together.

It was that thought that pushed him to start walking away from the nest. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he would change his mind if he did.

~PICTURE THIS~

Sam had been walking for hours. He’d been up at first light and had set off almost straight away. He hadn’t wanted breakfast at all, knowing it would slow him down on his search for his brother, but he also knew he would need the energy. He made sandwiches for lunch as well and packed them in his backpack.

It was now nearing 2ish and Sam had made his way through the forest and was well on his way up a mountain path. He knew angel’s liked living in high places, and the books he’d read late into the night had confirmed that angel’s used to be seen flying around these mountains regularly.

He just couldn’t stop thinking of Dean. Pictures of him being force fed grace, visions of him begging, thoughts of how cruel the angel’s were for taking him away from him all plagued his mind. It kept him on his path, pushed him further in his quest. He would not go back until he found his brother.

The mountain path was rocky and slippery in places, but Sam managed to keep his footing and powered on eagerly.

He eventually had to force himself to stop. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and his stomach was cramping in protest. He shrugged his backpack from his shoulders and was bent over, trying to dig his probably squashed-by-now sandwiches out when he picked up a distant sound.

He whipped his head up, his hand going to his pocket where the pocket knife, he’d thought to pack was kept tucked away for safety, in case he needed it. He didn’t get it out just yet but was ready to move with it if necessary.

It took him a moment to recognise the sound was coming from in front of him. For a moment, he couldn’t believe his ears… it sounded like someone running. But that couldn’t be right – if this was where the angel’s lived, why would one of them be running? They had wings for a reason.

Sam got his pocket knife out and took a careful step back. He had the weapon ready to use should he be forced to; he wasn’t going to be caught unaware like his poor brother had.

And then, barrelling around the corner came a man. A man that Sam instantly recognised.

“Dean?!”

“Sam!”

Sam dropped the knife and without a second though dashed for his brother. The two met half way, encasing the other in a bone crushing hug. Sam started crying, unable to stop himself… he had been half way to believing he’d never see Dean again.

“Oh my gosh! You’re okay! You’re okay!”

“Sammy! What are you doing here?! Jesus Christ! No, you can’t be here! I couldn’t live if they got to you!”

“Dean, no one’s going to get to me,” Sam reassured him, taking in, but not commenting on the face that Dean was wearing only a pair or shorts and nothing else. Also, Dean looked younger than Sam remembered him looking. “Now I’ve found you, we’re going home!”

“Oh, if that isn’t the best news I’ve heard all week, Sammy,” Dean took a few deep breaths, looking over his brother to make sure that he really was okay. He pulled the younger man into another hug. “It’s so damn good to see you Sam!”

“You too,” Sam hushed, wiping at his eyes, but smiling wide, for the first time since he knew Dean was missing. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Dean nodded excitedly. “Not to be a buzz kill but we’re going to have to run… It wont be long till they realize I’ve gone and come looking for me. How long till we get back to town.”

“I left the motel at 4 this morning!” Sam panicked. “Dean, that’s nearly 10 hours!”

Dean groaned, but looked behind him.

“I’ve been running for about 30 minutes. It’s not a great head start, but it’s something. C’mon – we’ve got to try.”

Sam nodded, grabbing his backpack and taking after Dean, back down the mountain. His knife was still on the ground, forgotten about.

They weren’t running very long before Dean had to stop. His feet were all cut up and bloodied from the rocks he was running on. Sam tried to take his shoes off and let Dean use them, but his brother wasn’t having any of it.

“They’re too big for me Sam and would slow me down even more. Plus then you would have bloody feet too and we’d both be in the same boat. Then what? No; I’ll just be a minute and then we can carry on,” Dean had promised.

Sam was getting restless, but as soon as 60 seconds ticked around, Dean pushed himself up from the ground and took a few tentative steps towards their goal.

“C’mon,” He ordered lightly. “Let’s get going again. We’ll just have to take it a little easier…”

They barely made it two minutes before the deafening sound of beating wings surrounded them. There was an angel behind them.

Dean froze up, and Sam could see the utter panic in his eyes.

Sam instinctively reached for his pocket knife and tried not to show his shock when it wasn’t there, and he remembered dropping it back along. He spun around slowly to assess the danger; he was sure his heart stopped when the large wings grew wide.

“Dekano?” The angel spoke, voice hard and scolding.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered. He didn’t know what to think or do, he just knew that now there would be no more running.

The angel chattered, but the words made little sense to Dean and even less sense to Sam.

Dean dropped to his knees and didn’t try to stop the tears from falling.

He just wanted to go home… but he wasn’t actually sure where that was anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

The man, no, the angel, was at least a foot smaller than him, but his huge wings spread high and wide above them all, making Sam feel smaller than he ever had before.

The angel looked almost exasperated and confused with the scene in front of him. He kept glancing between Sam, who felt vulnerable and defenceless without his weapon and Dean who was on his knees, with his head in his hands.

Dean was uttering quiet pleas and Sam was able to hear the silent tears in his voice. What he was pleading for, Sam didn’t know. His elder brother looked defeated and so tiny on his knees that Sam felt a sudden surge of protectiveness.

He looked back up at the angel who ruffled his feathers and let the large wings lower slightly. His face turned soft and kind and he took a step towards the two. Without thinking, Sam jumped in front of his brother and put his hands up to block the angel from coming any closer.

The angel stopped. He tilted his head to the side, as if taking a moment to contemplate Sam’s movements and try and figure out his thought process. And then he smiled and started talking.

Over the years, Sam had heard a lot about the language of the angels. Enochian, that’s what they called it. It was dubbed the impossible language, as no human was able to even understand it, let alone speak it. Sam had never heard it for himself, but he knew that, without a doubt, it was what the angel was speaking now. It sounded beautiful, almost like a song full of clicks and pops and it had such a soft feel to it that it almost made Sam relax and trust the angel in front of him. But the meaning of the words went straight over Sam’s head; for all he knew the angel was threatening him, although it certainly didn’t sound that way.

When the angel took another step forward, Sam pushed his hands out again.

“Stay back!” He cried, unsure whether the angel could understand him. He knew that they had all been human once, but they weren’t anymore. And with the wings growing large behind the beast again, it wasn’t hard to separate the two species in his mind.

“Stop, Sammy.”

The little, heartbroken voice coming from behind him broke Sam out of his protective stance.

“What? Dean…”

“It’s no use!” Dean sniffed. He didn’t raise his head from his hands, he didn’t look at his brother. He just sat, slumped on his knees and cried. “Get out of here Sam, before he kills you.”

“Dean, no!” Sam exclaimed, shocked that his brother would suggest such a thing, but not at the same time. Dean had always been self-sacrificing. He eyed the angel careful and when he was sure he currently posed no threat, he dropped down beside Dean, his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. He could tell, more than ever in the short time since they had found each other again, that Dean’s time with the angel’s had changed him. He was still the same man, but he was different, in so many ways. Not just physically either. Once upon a time, Dean wouldn’t have let himself be so overcome with emotion, would have been determined to stay stony-faced even when all he wanted was for their late mother (God rest her soul) to wrap her arms around him just like she had done when they had been little boys.

“Dean,” Sam spoke, a promise wrapped up in that very word. He was promising to not give up on him, no matter what happened next, right here, right now. He was promising to protect him as best as he was going to be able to. He was promising, that no matter what, they would still be brothers.

Sam looked over his shoulder again, conscious of the angel and what could only be limited patience. But the angel stood looking over them curiously; he hadn’t made any more advances and looked peaceful enough to just watch them and catalogue their every move.

“Dean… is this… is he…” Sam shook his head, trying to figure out the right pronouns to use. None of them sounded exactly right. He decided to just go with it. “Is this your angel?”

Dean took in a shuddery breath, which Sam felt underneath his hand. The oldest Winchester slowly lowered his hands and glanced over his shoulder, even though he knew exactly who was stood behind him. He burst into a fresh bout of tears upon laying eyes on the man with the large, almost dominating wings.

“Dekano?” The angel cooed, taking slow tentative steps forward again now.

The name was lost on Sam, the word meaning nothing, but the youngest brother didn’t miss the way Dean froze up.

“You understand him!” He hissed, hurriedly, panicked now that the angel was almost on top of them.

Dean looked at Sam with his huge, wide, wet eyes.

“What did he say?” Sam begged to know, unable to keep the concern (and quite honestly, the interest) out of his tone, while keeping the angel in his line of sight and trying to come with a plan, anything, of what to do next. The angel was clearly trying not to frighten the two Winchesters, and the way he approached so honest and slow was almost as if he was scared any sudden movement on his part might send them both running. And it made Sam question, why weren’t they running already?

“He… he said my name…” Dean explained, wiped exasperatedly at his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. It didn’t seem to be working so well. “My… my angel name…”

“Your angel name?” Sam repeated, more to himself than anyone else. He desperately wanted to know more, his need for knowledge and answers urging him to press for more. But before he could do so, the angel was there.

In a fraction of a second, Dean was on his knees beside him, looking nothing but sorry for himself, and in the next he was being lifted from the ground by the angel. And he didn’t go happily, or willingly; the screams and fighting from his brother, making Sam’s heart lurch.

“SAM! PLEASE! OH GOD PLEASE! RUN! SAM! JUST RUN!”

Sam came back to himself quickly, realising in all the frenzied panic he had frozen and just watched on, unable to do anything but that. He didn’t know what to do. His instincts told him to run (listen to your brother and just run, God damn it!), but he had already lost his brother once, he wasn’t ready to lose him again.

Sam watched as the angel bounced Dean and hushed him, exactly like one would with an inconsolable baby. He cringed for Dean who was being treated like that, but at the current moment his very clearly adult brother didn’t seem to be paying the behaviour any attention and only focused on trying to break out of the clearly unbreakable hold, his legs kicking up a storm and his arms flexing with the strength he was using to push against the angel’s arms.

Sam made up his mind. No running. He needed to help his brother, whether it was the last thing he did. He didn’t have a weapon as such, but he was sure that there was something he could use in his rucksack. He glanced over to where the bag had been dumped and had rolled away in all the chaos and quickly scrambled to his feet, praying to anyone who was listening that there was something in there that he could pass off as a weapon.

But just before he reached the bag, there was a familiar sound of pounding wings and stood between Sam and his rucksack was a second angel. The almost sudden appearance of the beast made Sam cry out in shock and fall backwards. He went crumbling to the ground, grunting in pain as his ass made contact with the hard floor.

Sam instinctively looked up at the other angel. His wings were just as huge, if not bigger than the first angel’s, and they were both terrifying and menacing in the way they spread high and wide as if poised, ready to fight. Sam was sure that if he stood up, he would be taller than this beast, but he had also had no doubt that he would still be just as intimidating all the way up there as he was all the way down on the ground.

Sam didn’t even attempt to breath, sure that these last few seconds were going to be his last.

The appearance of the other angel brought a new level of silence. The first angel stopped speaking, Dean stopped fighting and screaming, and any wildlife that hadn’t been scared off from the ruckus Dean had made fell silent. Even the wind stood still.

The silence didn’t last longer than a second. The first angel started talking again, although his tone was hurried and rushed as if trying to explain himself. Dean too started up again, shouting and fighting against the first angel, but this time in a bid to get to the second angel. Dean was talking, begging, pleading, but for what Sam didn’t know, the click and pop Dean repeated over and over again matched the same sounds of the other angel. Dean was speaking Enochian.

The second angel held out his arms expectantly, and Sam could hear the hurried footsteps of the first angel hurrying towards them.

“Dean!” Sam chocked on his brother’s name, but Sam’s call didn’t seem to get through to his brother who was so close to the second angel now that he almost launched himself into the waiting arms.

As soon as the second angel had his arms securely around Dean, Dean’s screeching stopped, but his crying didn’t immediately go away. He kept speaking, the same sound repeating over and over again, and Sam still didn’t know what his brother was saying. The second angel shushed and hushed Dean, bouncing him once, twice in his arms and then with a flick of his hands held a… a pacifier. It was a shiny, shimmering blue and Sam couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The pacifier was offered to Dean, who took it readily, the item that had materialized from thin air successfully calming him and stopping his cries.

Sam continued to watch on, frozen in a state of shock and suddenly feeling nauseas and lightheaded. He felt like he should be moving, fighting, running, something, anything. But the fear coursing through his veins had him rooted to the spot. Sam could literally bring himself to do nothing but watch as the second angel spoke a few soft words to Dean and then as he lowered his large, black wings and draped them around Dean, creating a sort of cocoon around him.

Sam spluttered. The first angel wasn’t Dean’s angel like he’d first though. This was Dean’s angel.

The second angel, Dean’s angel, looked down at Sam and squinted his eyes. He spoke in that beautiful language that Sam had no hope of understanding, to the other angel. His tone was harder now then when he had spoken to Dean, and even Sam could tell he was demanding answers.

Sam shrunk back, ducking his head under the scrutinizing gaze of Dean’s angel. He raised his shoulders and adverted his eyes, as if hoping this would make him invisible to the two beasts stood above him. He could not see a way out of this alive.

~PICTURE THIS~

Castiel had been hunting down a rather large deer that would easily keep both himself and Gabriel sustained for many days to come, when the desperate, hurried and panicked tug on his grace pulled him away. He could tell it was Gabriel calling out to him, the grace familiar and family, but his brother had been too preoccupied to really portray any other message apart from; “Come, NOW!”

Castiel had lost the deer, Gabriel’s alarm making him stop dead as he considered just what had caused his brother to call out to him in such desperation. His first thought went straight to Dekano who was asleep and unprotected in the nest. In mere seconds he was reaching out to check on the babe, but when his grace curled around the nest, he could tell instantly it was empty. The pure horror that struck through him went right to his core and he took flight immediately, following Dekano’s tiny ball of grace and the mark that called out to him. Incidentally, it led him right to Gabriel too.

The sight that had greeted him had him wondering exactly what was going on. Gabriel looked calm on the outside, but his grace fizzled and crackled with panic and uncertainty over the situation in front of him, and he was sure that Dekano could feel it also, which would explain at least some of the hatchling’s upset as he screamed and fought against his Uncle’s hold. And on the floor, mere feet from where Cas stood was a human.

Cas ignored him for the time being but was not ready to move out of the way and let the human flee. A human that had got so close to the nest wasn’t a good sign. He could go back to the small town far below them and bring up an army of humans. And while they wouldn’t stand even a remote chance against the angels, it was a fight that even the angel’s wanted to avoid. So, instead, he stayed stood in front of the human and held his arms out for Gabriel to bring him his screaming baby.

“I’m sorry Cassie!” Gabriel exclaimed, voice hurried and loud to be heard over Dekano’s crying. “I didn’t expect to find him here! I didn’t know what to do!”

“PAPA!” Dekano wailed and wailed. “Papa! Papa! Papa!”

As soon as he was close enough, Dekano practically threw himself at Castiel, latching onto his neck and sobbing openly.

“Papa!” He sniffled; his screaming stopped now he got what he wanted.

“Papa’s here, baby,” Cas hushed, unsure whether to be mad at Dekano or not. Had Dekano tried to escape? Or had he been influenced by this human? And if so, how had the human been close to the nest without him realising?

Dekano just continued his mantra of “Papa!” over and over again, the tears still big and fat rolling down his face. Cas bounced the hatchling a few times, before producing another grace pacifier. He offered it to the babe who took it almost greedily, sucking on it desperately. He turned into Cas’ chest, seeking out the comfort he could only receive from his Papa.

“There we go. That’s better, huh, Dekano?” Cas shushed kindly, letting his feathers ruffle a moment before bringing them down and around the hatchling in his arms, creating a place of safety and warmth. He could feel Dekano’s shuddery breath against his check and neck, but the baby relaxed into him so much that Cas wouldn’t put it past him to fall asleep.

With his babe now safe and sound and back in his arms where he belonged, Cas reassessed the situation before him. He finally gave the human in front of him more than a fleeting glance.

The human was still on the floor where he’d fallen back in shock. Cas squinted his eyes and cocked his head to the left and it was then that he realised he recognised this man. It took him a moment, however, to realise where he recognised him from. This was the human who had been with Dekano back before Cas took him… the human that had accompanied Dekano in the tiny nest they had made for themselves on top of the hill. He hadn’t thought of this human in a long time, but he felt a surge of possessiveness and a need to protect his baby from this human.

“Gabriel,” Cas called to his brother, tone harder than he intended, not taking his eyes from the human. “What happened here?”

“Cassie, I swear, I don’t know!” Gabriel almost wept. Cas felt bad for being so harsh on him, knowing that his brother wouldn’t have had any part in this, and in actual fact had probably been the one that had saved Dekano. “I was just flying; searching for wherever my hatchling had wondered off to and that’s when I saw him – Dekano. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Castiel spoke softly again now, and completely truthfully. He looked over his brother quickly before looking back at the human. His voice hardened again. “But who is this?”

“He’s mine!” Gabriel cried, darting forward, putting his hand out to halt Cas as if his brother had been about to advance on the human.

Cas looked up at Gabriel and realised the meaning behind the words. The man wasn’t Gabriel’s to kill, he was Gabe’s.

“This is your human?” Castiel asked, although it was more of a statement. “This is your hatchling.”

“Yes,” Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief, as if worried Cas wasn’t going to see that. “He’s my baby, Cassie.”

Castiel looked the human over again, as if taking him in, in a different way this time, before nodded a few times and breaking into a small smile.

“Congratulations brother. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking Dekano back to the nest.”

And without waiting for his brother’s reaction, Castiel spread his wings and flew into the air.

Dekano let out a noise of protest and clutched his arms tighter around him, but he trusted his Papa enough not to drop him.

It took next to no time to reach the nest again, and Castiel let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding now that he was back in their safe place. And now they were back, Castiel could tell from the way the fur pelts were pushed around and from the guilt now falling from his hatchling in waves… Dekano had tried to escape.

~PICTURE THIS~

The second angel unfurled his wings and spread them wide. Sam barely managed to catch a glimpse of Dean, curled up and content in the angel’s arms before the blacked winged angel took flight. For the first time since the second angel’s arrival, Sam snapped out of his shock and made a panicked dash after the angel who was quickly becoming smaller and smaller the further, he flew away.

“NO! DEAN!” Sam cried, arms reached out in desperation, his lanky legs stumbling underneath him, his feet trying to gain purchase on the ground. But now, even if Sam managed to get to his feet, he would never catch up to Dean or the angel.

When the black wings were nothing more than a speck in the distance, Sam gave up trying to stand and fell to his hands and knees in defeat, still screaming after the black winged angel. “YOU BASTARD! YOU FEATHERY ASSED DICK!”

There was a moment of silence after Sam’s screams, and Sam, who hung his head and willed himself not to cry had forgotten all about the other angel. So, when there was the, by now, familiar sounds of the clicks, pops and sweet chatter almost right in his ear, Sam jumped back.

“Get away from me!” He shrieked, unashamed of how unmanly he sounded. He fell backwards, his arms going behind him and propelling him backwards and away from the chocolate winged angel. He still feared for his life after all, and now he had nothing to lose; he was going to fight the angel every step of the way. “Stay back!”

The angel held his hands out to Sam, probably trying to lull him into a false sense of security by trying to ensure Sam that he wasn’t a threat. Sam refused to fall for the trick.

“I said stay back!” Sam yelled, aware of just how unthreatening he sounded.

Earlier, when Dean had been here, the angel had been weary of approaching. Now though, he showed no restraint, marching after Sam with ease and efficiency that pushed Sam into flight mode. He needed to get out of here now.

“I SAID STAY BACK!” Sam cried at the top of his lungs, trying to gather as much courage as he could. He spun onto his hands and knees in mere seconds and pushed himself onto his feet, only slipping on the fallen leaves once.

Once he was up and steady on his feet, he ran. He didn’t stop to look back at the angel and he didn’t try to make a snatch for his backpack, it would only slow him down.

Sam could hear the beating of the angel’s wings and then suddenly the beast was in front of him. Sam, who hadn’t expected it, crashed hard into the guys chest. Before the angel could wrap his arms around Sam and encase him in his unbreakable hold, Sam jumped back as if he’d been burnt. He flailed his arms about with no particular aim in mind, just in the direction of the angel’s face. He screamed loudly, feeling a sense of satisfaction when his hands made contact with flesh a few times. Before he could get in any more than a few hits, hard unrelenting hands gripped around his wrists and held them still.

“Get off me! Get off me you jerk!” Sam shrieked, wishing that he wasn’t so far away from human civilization where his screams would have gathered attention, and maybe some help; although with what the police officer had told him yesterday, he doubted anyone would even have tried to come to his aid.

The angel was speaking again, his tone not unkind, but firm. Sam yanked at his hands, getting desperate to get away now, but quickly gathering the knowledge that it simply wasn’t going to happen unless the angel wanted him to get away.

“Please!” Sam begged, feeling exhausted from how long he’d been walking, how little sleep he’d gotten recently, and the feeble fight he’d put up just now. He sank to his knees, the angel letting him, but not letting go of his wrists.

Sam tugged a few more times before giving up completely and hanging his head. The tears fell thick and fast now as he begged and pleaded for a merciful death.

He didn’t once stop to think that if this angel wanted him dead, he already would be, or that maybe, just maybe, this angel was looking to take him on as his hatchling.

~PICTURE THIS~

Gabriel sucked in a relieved sigh that the human before him had stopped fighting, for now at least. Gabe was sure that this human wasn’t finished, was sure that he hadn’t given his absolute all during the little show he’d just put on. It was nothing that Gabe couldn’t handle, of course.

Gabriel thought back to his morning and how he had sought out the human town in desperation trying to find this human, his hatchling. He’d been close to blowing the town to smithereens when he couldn’t find him and had to remind himself that he could start a war with the humans if he did such a thing and could also unintentionally end up hurting his baby too. So, instead, he’d flown back towards the nest, planning on a break before starting his search again tomorrow.

But on his flight back, he had felt the pull of his hatchling below him and had followed it quickly, coming to land only feet away. That was where he had found him, with Dekano of all people. It must have taken hours for the human to get here, so far away from the tiny human town. It took some time to fly the distance, let alone walk it.

His poor hatchling must be exhausted.

Gabriel wanted nothing more than to tuck his baby up against him and rock him to sleep while the hatchling had his first taste of grace. But first they needed to get back to the nest.

“Come now, little one,” Gabriel hushed, gently letting one wrist drop, and using his now free hand to cup the human’s cheek. “It’s time to go home.”

It was a mistake. The human yanked his other wrist with such force, that Gabe’s now loosened hold on it fell away from the shock and surprise. The human jumped back to his feet and spun on his heels, running in the opposite direction.

Gabriel sighed, closed his eyes for a brief second before spreading his wings again and landing directly in front of the fleeing human. This time, he moved quickly, lifting the human into his arms, unaffected with the way he pushed, pulled and full out struggled against Gabe’s hold.

Gabe just held the human for a moment, aware of how much taller and how much bigger this man was compared to him. It didn’t scare Gabriel at all, as there was no human that was stronger than him or any other angel. But until this human started the hatchling process and began his physical regression, the human’s height could, at times, portray a slight problem.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Gabe cooed, trying to get the human to calm a little.

“Get off me! You bastard! Get off me!” The human was scratching at him, pushing his feet against the floor, trying to use all his weight to topple Gabriel over. The angel wasn’t moved by the force the human was using, nor did he understand a lick of what the human had said.

Gabriel was tiring of the fight and struggle, not physically but mentally. He didn’t want to have to fight the human every step of the way, more for the human’s sake more than anything, it could be challenging on their part and Gabe had every intention of making the transition as easy as possible.

So, with that thought in mind, Gabriel lowered the human ever so slightly so that he was able to completely put his weight back on his feet. The human obviously thought Gabe was letting him go, but the angel did nothing of the sort.

Stepping carefully, and not once removing his hands off of the obviously terrified man, Gabriel moved around the human until he was stood in front of him. The human was watching him carefully, his chest moving up and down erratically, his breath stuttered and his eyes moving quickly trying to work out the angel’s next step before it happened.

Gabriel lifted him again, but this time in a bridal lift.

“NO!” The human cried and begged, pushing against Gabriel again and he did almost fall this time. The almost drop made him jump back into Gabe’s arms and Gabriel held him tighter.

“Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay,” Gabriel promised quietly, wishing for the panic to be over. “Papa’s going to make it all better; just you wait,” He hushed, pressing a soft, grace filled kiss to the human’s head.

The human ripped his head away from the touch of the angel’s lips, but it was too late; the grace had made contact and it tingled blue for a moment at the point of impact before disappearing below the skin. The grace was sent to calm the scared babe a little and to stop him from putting up too much of a fight before he hurt himself.

The human shivered, the grace slightly cool as it spread through him. He wasn’t fighting though, his brow furrowed as if trying to work out exactly what was going on inside of him. Gabriel could see the confusion on his face, sure that he was trying to work out why he felt like he should be fighting, but suddenly didn’t want to. Gabriel admitted it was a cruel trick, but he had to do it for the welfare of his baby.

And before the hatchling-to-be figured that he could still move and wriggle and cry with the grace forcing him into a false sense of calm, Gabriel bought his wings around and slid one into the babe’s mouth. He wanted to do this properly in the nest, but he didn’t think the human having his first sips of grace would hurt; it would certainly act as insurance; it meant if somehow the human managed to get away, he would have to come back to Gabriel anyway because he would die without him.

The human spluttered on the feather and tried spitting it out, moving his head to try and dislodge the wing. Gabriel was expecting him to be fussy and followed every movement with speed and precision. When the first drops of grace slipped from Gabriel’s wing tip and onto the human’s tongue, causing the human to swallow the trickle of grace on instinct. He turned huge wide, almost betrayed eyes on Gabriel, but then he was gulping it down like a starving man.

“There,” Gabriel hummed. “That’s better, isn’t it.”

He gently tugged the feather from the babe’s mouth, chuckling lightly at the disappointed groan he got in response and the way the hatchling-to-be tried to chase it.

“You’ll get more soon,” Gabriel promised him softly, another kiss dropping to the babe’s forehead. “Come on, let’s go home.”

~PICTURE THIS~

Dean hissed in pain when Papa gently lowered him back on his feet. Even though underneath him were the thick, soft fur pelts of the nest, Dean was more aware of his cut up, bloody and bruised feet now than he had been when he had been running on them. Without thinking, he chocked out a sob and dropped to his bottom to take the weight of the sore, stinging flesh and moved to gently cradle them. He didn’t even try and stop the tears.

“Papa,” He wailed around the pacifier. “It hurts.”

 Papa hummed quietly, but Dean knew that he didn’t understand his words. Dean watched through wet, blurry eyes as the angel moved around the nest with calculated moves. He was righting all the fur pelts Dean had dislodged with his hands and feet as he had tried to gain purchase up the side of the nest as he tried to escape.

“Papa,” Dean tried again, letting the sound of his tears evident in his voice.

The angel did look over his shoulder and observed him. It was clear that he saw the sore feet and he chattered away to Dean, but apart from his name, Dean didn’t understand a word of it.

Dean sucked on his paci as he watched Papa, knowing that as soon as the nest was tidy again, he would come over and see him. Dean thought over everything that had happened in the last hour or so and when his thoughts went to his brother, he panicked. He had left Sam with the other angel, let Papa take him away from the only family he had left… it had been as good as signing the younger boy’s death certificate. He couldn’t sit here and just let it happen, Sam didn’t deserve to die.

“Sammy!” He gushed, ignoring his sore, painful feet for now as he pushed himself up and darted to the edge of the nest. He had bigger things to worry about that a few cuts and bruises. The grace paci was spat out and rolled around the floor of the nest. “Sammy!”

Dean managed to grip the edge of the nest and was just trying to pull himself up the tall side when Papa’s hands went around his waist and pulled him away.

“No!” Dean screamed. “Papa! No! You don’t understand! Sam! I need to get to Sam! Please!”

“Dekano, Papa…” The words Papa spoke were meaningless after that, but his tone was firm, disapproving and disappointed. Dean knew he was in trouble, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his brother.

“No! I need to get to Sam!” Dean fought and flailed, flinching only slightly when his cut up heel caught Papa’s shin.

Papa was saying nothing now, but he moved with such precision Dean couldn’t help but wonder whether Papa had practice in this. In seconds, Dean was over the angel’s knee and Papa was pulling the short, animal hide shorts down his legs.

“No! No!” Dean panicked, kicking and struggling, trying to push up and away from the angel, but Papa had no hard time keeping Dean draped over his lap. “No! I’m sorry! Papa! I’m sorry!”

But the words went in one ear and out the other, if they were even understood. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, but it all happened so fast at the same time. Papa’s hand was unrelenting, coming down on Dean’s unprotected bottom, over and over again.

Dean sobbed and cried, his feet kicking feebly, but not with the intention of hitting Papa this time, it was to try and elevate the pain that was quickly spreading and blossoming over his sit-spots and the tops of his thighs.

“Papa!” He howled, the pain of the spanking he was receiving effectively getting him to stop thinking about Sam for now. All he wanted was Papa to fix up his feet and the burning in his bottom and to wrap his arms and wings around him, feed him some more grace and rock him to sleep; was that too much to ask. Today had been physically and mentally draining.

Dean was barely aware of the sound of wings, nor did the sound of his brother’s panicked, tear-filled voice calling his name make it through the fog in his brain.

~PICTURE THIS~

Even though the hatchling had tried to escape a second time, Castiel still hadn’t planned to spank him. Sure, he was frustrated and disappointed, but he knew that Dekano still wasn’t completely angel. He wasn’t entirely human either, stuck in the middle really, and still changing; but he probably felt more human than angel at this moment, because it was all he really knew. So, Castiel had been prepared to give the babe the benefit of the doubt.

But when Dekano tried to make a run for it again, right underneath his nose, Cas couldn’t let it slide. Dekano was pushing now, maybe testing him to see what he’d do, and Castiel needed to put boundaries in place now when he was most malleable, otherwise face a rebellious, troublemaking hatchling in future.

He could hear the moment the babe’s cries turned from ones of anger and desperation to ones of sorrow. He wasn’t as hard as he could have been, making the spanking last long enough to get his message across.

He didn’t look up when Gabriel returned to the nest, with the human, his hatchling, in his arms. He ignored too the way the other babe cried and called out, trying to reach Dekano. Gabriel had him under control, not at all phased by the fight and strength the human put into getting away.

As soon as the short spanking was done, Castiel wrapped his arms around his own babe and brought his sobbing form up for a much needed hug.

“Papa doesn’t like doing that, baby,” He shushed, soothing hands in Dekano’s hair, before thumbing away the tears that fell from the poor things eyes. He shushed him again, holding him close and just letting him cry. Dekano clutched to him tightly, clearly wanting to be close right now.

“Papa,” He moaned and Castiel hummed with a soft smile.

There was a lot of noise coming from over on Gabriel’s side of the nest, and Castiel looked over quickly.

“Are you okay brother?” He called softly.

Gabriel grunted, but didn’t seem to be having too much trouble ridding his hatchling of the horrible, constricting clothes that the human’s seemed to favour.

“Sammy?” Dekano spoke, blinking his eyes slowly in disbelief as he followed his Papa’s gaze. Cas had no idea what the babe had said, but he cooed at him.

“That’s right baby,” He mumbled, turning away and moving closer to the sleeping area of the nest. “That’s Uncle Gabe and a new friend for Dekano to play with, hmm?”

“Papa,” Dekano whined, throwing his head back almost dramatically. Cas chuckled at him lightly and gently lowered the babe onto the built up fur pelts. The babe blinked up at him but didn’t complain more than a groan and whine.

“Now, let’s see about those poorly feet, hmm?”

The hatchling looked exhausted and Cas could tell he was ready to go down for a little sleep, for real this time.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Cas pouted as he cupped the cut up feet in his hands. He wasn’t a healer by a long shot, but he had a little grace that could heal up such an injury. “Papa’s going to fix these right up, hunny.”

It took a little moment, but soon Dekano’s feet was surrounded by the blue glow of grace and Castiel watched carefully to make sure every bruise and scratch had been sown back together again. He took a moment to thread his hands through his wings until he created a little of wing oil. He gently massaged the oil into the now good-as-new feet, the oil was going to relax the tense muscles and make them baby-soft. Castiel couldn’t help but think how cute Dekano’s little toes would look in some booties, and how much safer they probably would be too. He made a mental note to see about making a pair in the next few days, using only the softest fur of course.

“There we go, all better,” Cas beamed when it was done, sealing the promise with a kiss to the bottom of each foot. The hatchling kicked his feet lightly at the soft touch, it obviously tickling slightly.

“Papa,” Dekano said around a yawn. He continued to speak, and Castiel pretended to listen, humming and nodding his head as he lifted the boy back into his arms, cradling him like a new-born.

“How about a nap, baby?” Castiel asked tenderly, pressing a soft kiss to the boy’s forehead.

He watched with fascination as the hatchling furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at his Papa carefully. He was paying absolutely no mind to Gabriel or the other human in the nest, completely focused on his Papa as if he was the only person in his world right now. It made Castiel feel so very special.

“Nap?” Dekano repeated, the word sounding uncertain but clearly spoken in Enochian.

“That’s right, baby!” Castiel beamed when it registered that Dekano had learnt another word. He really was picking the language up fast. “Nap!”

“Nap,” Dekano nodded, yawning. He snuggled further into Castiel’s chest and opened his mouth, demanding a feather. Castiel chuckled at his behaviour, but gladly offered one.

~PICTURE THIS~

When they’re arrived at the nest, Cas had been spanking Dekano, which, Gabriel couldn’t blame him for. Dekano could have been seriously hurt out there all alone – and it was just a miracle that this human, Gabriel’s hatchling hadn’t done anything to hurt him. As it was, the two seemed to have bonded in the short time they had been together, especially if the way the spanking seemed to upset his hatchling just so.

Gabriel had tried to distract him, by keeping him turned away from the sight and talking to him loudly, but the babe just fought to see it. It hadn’t gone on for long, but all the human did was fight against Gabe to try and get over and help Dekano. Luckily, Castiel wrapped the spanking up, and Gabe was able to get on with starting the initiation process.

The clothing had been quick to go. The poor thing hadn’t actually seemed to upset at loosing the constricting cloth, and instead sobbed and called out to Dekano. He kept repeating the same sound over and over again, and Gabriel was able to work out that it was probably Dekano’s human name. He imagined the only reason this human knew it was because they’d exchanged pleasantries when they’d stumbled across each other on the mountain path.

Now that Cas was putting Dekano down for a nap, and the other hatchling wasn’t crying now, it seemed to calm the human down some.

“Dean?” The human repeated, his hand reaching out weakly towards the other side of the nest where Cas and Dekano was.

“That’s your Uncle Cassie and baby Dekano,” Gabriel shushed as he gathered the human into his arms. “You can meet them properly and play with Dekano tomorrow,” He promised, brushing back the human’s hair, pleased that he wasn’t putting up might fight now, the grace that was in him seeming to calm him more than he had thought it might. He was obviously very tired. “Right now, we gotta get you ready, huh?”

The human grumbled and complained, but he let himself be maneuvered.

Gabriel had to place his mark on the babe somewhere, and he took a moment to contemplate where to put it. He knew that Cas had placed his mark on Dekano’s shoulder, but that didn’t feel like the right place to him. He moved his free arm around, hovering it over different places on the boy, trying to figure out just where the right place was.

“This is a hard decision, little one,” Gabe hummed conversationally to his hatchling. He hovered his hand over the boy’s left hip for a second longer and knew that this was the place. It felt right.

Gently he placed his hand down, cringing back as the human started screaming at the burning sensation. The babe tried to pull away, pushing at Gabe’s chest, but Gabe held him in place, not wanting to make this any worse than it had to be. As soon as the mark had taken, Gabriel removed his hand. The mark glowed red and angry for a moment, but soon calmed. He hovered his hand over the new mark for a moment, using a tiny bit of grace to completely rid the burning feeling away so that the hatchling didn’t have to suffer for any longer than was necessary.

Gabriel knew from experience that the burn could be a right pain. Gabriel had fought his own Mama back in the day, and the angel had been frustrated when Gabriel wouldn’t give up. She’d caught Gabe’s flying hand and had killed two birds with one stone, burning the mark around his wrist while she held it. It had hurt like a bitch. Castiel, who had come much later than Gabriel, but who shared the same Mama, had his on his lower back, because although Castiel had fought, their mother had no problem reminding them both that Castiel had been the easiest of their siblings to settle.

As soon as he was sure the pain from the burn was gone, Gabriel pressed another kiss to the babe’s forehead. He subjected a very squirmy and fussy hatchling to his very first tongue bath, much to the baby’s disgust. He was probably cursing him in his human language, but he had used up most of his fight now and was clearly just ready to sleep. When Gabriel moved on to massaging in his wing oil into the boy’s skin, the new-born hatchling was now more asleep than awake.

“There,” Gabriel shushed when it was all done. He wrapped a fur pelt around the babe and held him close to his chest, settling himself down and relaxing some as he offered his hatchling his wing tip again. He wasn’t surprised when the poor thing took it almost eagerly, suckling down the grace with reverence.

It felt right, snuggled up close to the babe while he finished his first meal as a hatchling. It had never felt like he’d been missing anything in his life, but here and now, with his hatchling in his arms, he knew that this was what he’d been missing.

“Congratulations,” Cas hushed as he slowly lowered himself next to his brother. In his arms was a fast asleep Dekano who looked so content in his Papa’s arms.

“Thanks,” Gabriel replied, knowing he had a stupidly huge smile on his face.

“You seemed to get lucky,” Cas commented. “He didn’t seem to fight too much.”

“Ha,” Gabriel scoffed at his younger brother’s teasing. “You didn’t see the struggle I had with him after you brought Dekano back here.”

Castiel laughed.

“The fight he put up was just payback for fight I put up for our Mama,” Gabriel muttered half-heartedly.

“I bet he was nothing compared to Dekano,” Castiel shook his head with a soft smile as he looked over his son. “I was bitten, scratched, headbutted. And he poked his fingers, hard, in my eyes; little bugger.”

Gabriel whistled. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t have it that bad.”

Castiel laughed again, smiling when Gabriel joined in.

“But let’s be honest,” Castiel spoke. “All the fight is worth it.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel sighed. He had only just started on this journey, but he knew already that it had all been worth it. It would always continue to be worth it.

For a little while, while Gabe’s hatchling finished his first full feeding of grace, neither of the two angels said anything.

Only when the newest hatchling’s mouth went slack around the feather and he fell deeper into what was obviously a much needed sleep, did Castiel speak again.

“Have you thought of a name yet?”

Gabriel looked up, almost as if shocked. It took him a moment to find his voice.

“I’ve always had a name picked out,” Gabriel explained softly, returning his gaze to his hatchling.

“Yeah?” Castiel prompted, having been unaware of the fact that Gabriel had always had a name picked out.

“Yeah. Dunno why. But as soon as I’d thought of it, I knew I had to save it for the special babe.”

“Even though you were always trying to convince everyone that you would never take a hatchling?” Castiel teased.

“Shut it,” Gabe rolled his eyes playfully.

“So, what is it?” Castiel questioned. “What’s his name?”

Gabriel threaded his hands through his hatchling’s long hair, taking a moment to take in all his peaceful features. He smiled as he tested out the name in his head, completely over the moon when it just fit.

“Somhairle.”

“Somhairle,” Castiel repeated softly. He reached out and put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “It’s perfect.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

“Dean?”

The soft call of his name gently pulled him from the depths of his comfortable, cosy sleep. He didn’t open his eyes, still more asleep than awake and settled back down under his warm blanket.

“Dean.”

The second time his name was spoken, Dean groaned and shifted. He didn’t want to wake up just yet and so let himself drift back to sleep.

“Dean!”

This time, Dean huffed and grumbled. He merely smacked his lips together and fell still again. He was determined to go back to sleep (after all he was a growing hatchling and needed all the sleep he could get) and left his eyes closed to give the illusion that he was in fact sleeping, in hopes that the intruder would leave him alone once and for all.

“I know you’re awake,” The voice murmured, sounding close.

“Piss off Sammy,” He grunted, finally losing his patience with his brother. “‘m tired.”

Half a second later, it registered in Dean’s foggy mind just who had been trying to wake him.

“Sammy?!” Dean’s eyes popped open in utter shock and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. His blanket (the one that was intertwined with Papa’s mojo) fell from his shoulders and pooled in his lap. He was still in the sleeping area of the nest, where he remembered cuddling up to Papa’s warmth and snuggling into the angel’s wings as he fell asleep the night before. Now though, he was alone with only a million fur pelts surrounding him and Sammy who had clearly been crouched at his side.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?!” Dean hissed, his voice full of concern as he tumbled out from underneath the blankets and grabbed Sam’s biceps in his hands. His younger brother was as solid as ever, which meant that he really was here and wasn’t a part of some realistic dream. Dean quickly glanced up and down Sam’s body, assessing him for any signs of hurt. Apart from the fact that, like himself, Sam was naked apart for a pair of animal hide shorts, and the almost angry, red fingertips (which were no doubt connected to a fiery, red handprint) peeking out from above the shorts, Sam seemed fine. “I told you to run! Oh Sam; no – you can’t be here!”

“Dean,” Sam spoke softly, a small smile breaking across his face. “I’m fine!”

“Why didn’t you listen to me, Sammy?” Dean hushed in disbelief. He glanced over Sammy’s shoulder when he heard the quiet chattering of the angel’s that he had become so accustomed to hearing. Both angels were stood just outside the nest over a slightly simmering area – Dean knew that they were cooking breakfast; he could smell the cooking meat. Neither of them had seemed to have noticed that both Sam and Dean were awake yet, which was unusual as Papa had a sixth sense for the moment Dean so much as stirred.

“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” Sam shrugged, and Dean was amazed with how calm Sam appeared to be about all of this. When he’d had his first morning in the nest, he’d been frantic and had already made an escape attempt. Even then, he had struggled with things and it took him a day or two to accept that this was his life now. Sam though, he seemed to be taking this all in his stride, as if it was one of his relaxing spa weekends he liked to enjoy with his friend Jessica every so often. “Even if I had run, I doubt I’d have been able to get away.”

“You could have tried!” Dean almost snapped, frustrated now that his brother was so cool and collected, almost angry that he hadn’t given escape a shot. “It’s too late for me now; but you could have had everything. But you basically handed yourself over to the angels on a silver platter by not even attempting to run!”

“Dean, please – I had just seen you screaming your head off in the arms of an angel after being missing for almost a week! I couldn’t move from the mere shock of it!”

Dean didn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything.

“And to be honest,” Sam continued. “I’ve had time to think this morning; back home, we’ve only have each other since Dad died. Is this so bad? At least this way we’re not apart, living two very different lives. At least this way we get to be together.”

Dean couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face and quickly engulfed him in a huge hug.

“I’m still mad at you!” Dean spoke over Sam’s shoulder, his tone anything but. Sam laughed loudly as he too wrapped his arms around his brother.

“Dekano?”

The sound of his other name being called, snapped Dean right back into reality. He pulled away from Sam so fast it was as if he’d been burnt, and spun his head in the direction the voice had come from.

“Papa,” Dean gasped, surprised to see the man so close.

“… baby,” The angel cooed to him, reaching down and hoisting him into the air, only a slight squawk from Dean.

Dean immediately relaxed into the familiar angels hold and snuggled into his arms for a fraction of a second before remembering that Sammy was here to see him now. He tensed right back up again and felt the blush covering his body.

“Sammy,” Dean spoke, coughing to clear his throat and make his voice sound manlier. “I…”

“Papa… grace… Dekano,” The angel spoke to him softly, seemingly ignoring his words to Sam, instead hoisting him higher onto his hip and moving him away from the sleeping area and incidentally, Sam.

“No, wait!” Dean cried, scrambling to turn his head around to look back at Sam. Sam hadn’t moved, choosing to watch Dean be carried away to the other side of the nest by his angel. “Papa! I was talking to Sam! You can’t just pluck me from the ground like that!”

Papa chuckled and cooed and spoke some more to Dean, but the only words Dean wasn’t able to understand any of it.

The other angel was moving towards Sam, and Dean felt a sudden surge of protectiveness. What if the other angel had decided that Sam was a hinderance in their nest and killed him? He struggled desperately to get out of Papa’s hold, but the angel’s grip was a strong as ever and he seemed to have no trouble keeping hold of Dean.

“Sam!” Dean cried desperately, ready to start sobbing. He hated how emotional he was becoming. Sam glanced over at him at the call of his name, and Dean watched as the other angel scooped Sam into his arms so easily it was as if his 6”4’ brother weight nothing. Sam looked fine and quite content in the other angel’s arms, even if a look of panic had flashed across his face at the sudden change in height, but this didn’t seem to comfort Dean and he wanted his brother close again. And he knew he wasn’t getting what he wanted by struggling. He fixed Papa with a hard look, pointing with his hand in Sam’s direction. “Papa! Put me down right now! I want to go back to Sam!”

“Shh,” Papa cooed, threading his fingers through Dean’s hair, as he stood at the side of the nest.

“Papa…Dekano want’s… go…play…hatchling. … Dekano… play, later.”

It took Dean a moment to take in everything his angel had said. There were a few new words in there that he understood and for a second it took his breath away. But, then the meaning of the words sunk in and Dean could fill in the blanks of what Papa was saying.

A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that Sam was relaxed with the other angel, chuckling at the mini tornado that was travelling all over him. Dean recalled the other angel doing this with him and smiled at the memory. Sam was happy over there for the moment, so he supposed he could let him be. Besides, Dean liked being this close to his Papa just as much as he wanted to be with Sammy right now. And with Sam happy, Dean knew he could take a moment to indulge himself.

Papa stepped outside the nest, still holding tightly onto Dean. Dean felt his eyes go wide as he threw his arms around his angel’s neck to help him feel more secure. This was something that never happened. Dean had never left the nest before with his Papa, it had always been as a failed escape attempt. He’d been starting to think he would never see the outside of the nest walls.

“Woah, Papa – what’s going on?” Dean groaned. So much had happened already this morning and he hadn’t even been awake 20 minutes. This also wasn’t their usual routine, and Dean did not like it. “I wanna cuddle Papa,” He whined, picturing yesterday’s morning wake up – a lovely snuggle while Dean had his morning dose of grace and then played some more with the wooden bird. This morning however had gone all wrong; even if he was happy that Sam was with them.

Papa spoke softly to him, but the words went right over Dean’s head.

They didn’t step far from the edge of the nest, just up to the small fire where both he and the other angel had been stood earlier.

“Mmmmm,” Dean hummed as he inhaled the scent of the cooking meat. He looked down at the fire to try and tell what was cooking, but he wasn’t sure what animal it was. That didn’t matter though, it smelt amazing and Dean desperately wanted some. “That smell’s fucking good Papa!”

“Good!” Papa cheered, tickling Dean’s tummy softly and bouncing him in celebration. “Dekano… good!”

“Woah,” Dean smirked, realising what had just happened. “Did I just learn a word, without having to hear it from you first? Nice!”

“Good!” Dekano’s a good…!” Papa repeated, chuckling to himself and praising Dean more if his tone was anything to go by.

“Yeah, yeah; Dekano’s good Papa,” Dean smiled at the angel. “Dekano would be even better if you gave him some of that!”

The angel followed Dean’s pointing hand, working out without the words that his hatchling wanted some of the food currently cooking.

“Has Papa got a hungry baby?”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Dean cried, excited, pushing back at Papa’s chest to get a better look at the man. “That was a whole fucking sentence!” He laughed aloud, stupidly happy all of a sudden. “Son of a bitch! I understood a whole fucking sentence Papa!”

The angel laughed, obviously not understanding most of Dean’s words, but finding the hatchling’s happiness contagious.

“Papa’s got… grace… Dekano. Papa’s…”

Dean rolled his eyes when most of Papa’s words were just the pretty pops and click’s that he had got used to hearing from the man. He didn’t have to ask the angel to repeat himself to know that he wasn’t going to be allowed any of the mean, and so with a yawn, he settled back against Papa’s shoulder.

A few moment’s later, Papa was using his grace to put out the fire. He left the meat where it was and quietly returned to the nest. Papa spoke to the other angel, but these words didn’t mean anything to Dean. The other angel replied, but he sounded a little stressed.

With a quick glance over to him, it was obvious why. He had Sam cradled in his arms (which was a funny sight in itself considering the size differences), clearly trying to feed Sam some grace with the tip of his wing – but Sam was having none of it. Gone were the laughs and smiles his brother had been wearing only moment’s previously to be replaced with grunts and cries to stop with arms pushing away the stubborn wing.

“Sammy,” Dean called out to get his brother’s attention. “Just stop struggling. It’s not that bad, I promise!”

But Sammy didn’t seem to be listening. Dean rolled his eyes and let Papa manoeuvre him until he too was cradled in his angel’s arms. He relaxed into this hold, loving the secureness it gave him, the warmth, the love. These were the morning hugs he’d been missing.

Papa was muttering soft words to Dean, most of which were going in one ear and out the other with no meaning, but Dean was more relaxed now than he had been since he’d woken up. When Papa offered him his wing tip, he accepted it enthusiastically and started suckling down his grace greedily.

Over on the other side of the nest, Sammy watched Dean take his angel’s wing tip so eagerly. The angel above him, the one that had him held so tightly, but so securely and comfortingly, was clicking and popping words at him but they were literally just sounds to Sam. But he suddenly understood what he needed to do. He lowered his arms from his face to let the chocolate coloured wing tip find it’s destined source. Ever so gently, Sam took the wing tip into his mouth and instantly felt a wonderful, sweet tasting liquid trickle onto his tongue and he soon couldn’t gulp it down quick enough. The angel above him chuckled fondly, fingers brushing back Sam’s long strands of hair.

Sam hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut. Although he’d appeared calm and willing in front of Dean, inside he’d been a frazzled mess of nerves and panic. But, he thought as he drank down more grace, with Dean here by his side, maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d first thought.