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After last night, I really needed something to pick me up. Which is apparently what this 'verse is for. Hence ... well. You'll see.
Title: Morning
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Good Omens, Supernatural
Continuity: Set immediately after Making Deals With Devils
Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Dean, Gabriel, Sam, Crowley, Aziraphale. Dean/Castiel (finally getting a little action), Crowley/Aziraphale (getting a lot of action). Past Castiel/Anna hinted strongly at, too. Sam and Gabriel ... not yet, I'm afraid, but getting there.
Summary: The morning after the night before.
Wordcount: 3680
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. I'd probably look after them all better.
Warnings: Wing-kink. Icarus is my nomme de plume, after all.
It took him a moment to realise anything beyond that. Took him a moment to realise that someone must have done something to him, 'whammied' him, as Dean would say, for him to have fallen asleep in the first place. Took a moment to realise that something might ... something might be wrong, there might be danger, he had to ...
"You're safe, kiddo," someone said, a little way off. Gabriel. Gabriel? Had he ...? Oh! He remembered. He remembered the archangel and the demon, getting ... very drunk. He remembered Aziraphale scolding someone. Possibly him? No. No. Crowley, that was it. And Gabriel. And then, while the angel harried them, they had ...
Something moved behind him. Shifted lazily to wrap an arm around his waist and mumble something into the back of his neck. Castiel froze, a little yelp escaping him before he could stop it, and Gabriel chuckled a little in the distance.
"He's been cuddling you all morning, you know," the archangel said quietly, sounding very amused about it. "Who knew Deano was such a closet snuggler? Then again, he and Sammy were so out of it, I could have been a pillow, if I'd sat still long enough." Castiel thought there might be something almost wistful in his voice, there, but it was quickly squashed as Gabriel went on. "He latched onto you when we tried to move him, and well ... it was just easier to dump you both into bed, and leave you to get on with it. You weren't exactly all there yourself, you know."
"Um," said Castiel. "What ... where's ... um."
Gabriel snickered, coming into view around the bottom of the bed, his mouth twisted into his usual smirk, but there was something different about it. Something ... soft? "Sammy's on the other side of Dean. Actually, if you can feel your hip, I think that's his hand. Frankly, I'm surprised Dean can breathe, stuck in the middle like that. Crowley's got pretty big beds, but this is Gigantor we're talking about ..."
"Um," Cas said again. He couldn't think of anything better. Many confusing things had been happening to him of late, and he'd thought he'd gotten used to it, to the constant uncertainty, but this ... "Um."
Gabriel grinned at him, shaking his head. "What's wrong, kiddo? Never woken up with a pretty human wrapped around you before? Not that Dean's what I'd call pretty, mind you, or even especially good looking ..."
Castiel frowned at that. "Dean is beautiful," he protested, almost on instinct. Dean was. Even in Hell, even twisted and torn, his soul had shone, so beautiful, so much a wonder, so much of what made their Father's work worth fighting for. Dean was always beautiful to him. So was Sam, really, in his way, but Dean ... He realised Gabriel was staring at him again, and blinked owlishly at the archangel. Gabriel's face twitched powerfully, like he was trying to suppress some mighty emotion, something Castiel couldn't see enough to understand. Amusement, maybe? Knowing Gabriel? Although, given the last few minutes, maybe not.
But before he could ask, something else flickered over the archangel's face, surprise and then amusement, as he looked over Castiel's shoulder ...
"Wha? Who?" Dean shifted behind him, and Castiel stiffened, causing Dean's arm to tighten around him convulsively. Causing Dean to realise that there was someone for his arm to tighten around. Causing ...
"What the hell!"
Dean sat up in panic, flailing a little, almost rolling Castiel out of the bed in the process. His head shot from side to side, eyes blearily glaring at anything in sight, and Castiel ... had to laugh. He just had to laugh. Big, rolling, helpless giggles as Dean turned to glare down at him in bewilderment, as he raised one hand to smush his own face, as if he could rewrite reality just by blocking it out for a second. Castiel laughed until his chest hurt, laughed until he had to stop or forget what breathing was supposed to be, one or the other, and then ...
"Dean?" Sam murmured from the other side, raising his shaggy head to peer at Castiel across his brother's lap. Sam frowned at him for a second, trying to remember who he was, maybe, and then he closed his eyes with a groan and dropped his head back to the mattress. "Jeez, Dean, couldn't you have waiting until we weren't sharing the bed? I so did not need to wake up to that!"
"What?" Dean yelped. "No! We didn't ... we weren't ... Sammy! I did not."
There was a choking sound from the bottom of the bed, and Castiel looked down to see Gabriel stuffing a fist in his mouth, shoulders shaking. He thought about being angry, maybe, because only he was allowed to laugh at his Winchesters, but, well, they were pretty funny. He grinned down at his brother, too light and happy to bother with anything else, and felt his heart trip a little when Gabriel grinned back.
"Something funny, chucklehead?" Dean asked dangerously, glaring at the archangel, and Castiel blinked a bit when Dean's arm came back around his shoulders, almost protectively. Dean's other hand rested defensively on Sam's shoulder as he growled blearily, and for a moment, for a moment so pure and bright it almost hurt, Castiel felt part of something, something small and battered and strong and pure. Something like family, or like how family should be. He gasped a little, shuddered, and Dean looked down at him, green eyes wide and blinking, confused at first and then ... understanding. Gentle. Embarrassed and proud.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel whispered, very quietly. Dean smiled, a little twitch in the corner of his mouth, and his thumb stroked a little at Castiel's shoulder-blades.
"Hey, Cas," he murmured back, voice still soft and a little crushed by sleep. "Ah. Morning?" Castiel smiled.
"I believe so, yes," he said, letting a little curl enter his voice, a little wisp of humour. Dean grinned, and hit him behind the ear. Only lightly, though. Castiel retaliated with a poke in the hip, since it was all he could reach from under the covers.
"Smartass," his human grinned, ruffling his hair. "Note to self, the angel is a smartass in the mornings."
"My ass is not particularly smart," Castiel deadpanned solemnly, watching Dean look at him with exasperation, waiting for that bemused, frustrated expression before he allowed his lips to curl upwards a little and reveal the joke. Dean stared at him in shock for a long moment, and then ...
Then, Dean pushed him out of the bed.
Castiel hit the floor with a loud thump, and an undignified squawk, and Gabriel fell off beside him laughing. Castiel flailed for a minute, stunned, then lay still, brushing hair out of his eyes, and glared at his brother, and Dean, and a bewildered and snickering Sam for good measure. All it did was make the lot of them laugh harder.
"Oh," Gabriel breathed, sitting up to flash Dean an almost admiring look. "Oh, you lot. You lot are perfect." He grinned helplessly. "Just what an archangel needs in the morning. Grumpy humans to torment his little brother."
"Thank you," Castiel muttered, a little snippily, pulling himself up onto his knees, leaning on the edge of the bed so he could glare at them better. "My first ever morning wake-up. Thank you for that."
Gabriel grinned. "Aw, hey, little bro. It's not so bad." He reached out to pat Castiel condescendingly on the shoulder. "Now that you've gotten the hang of it, I'm sure you'll have many other happy mornings to look forward to." He looked at Dean, there, and for some reason Castiel couldn't fathom, his eyes hardened a little. Almost threateningly. "I'm sure Dean over here wouldn't mind showing you the ropes, as it were. Would you, Deano?" A menacing purr, and Dean stiffened a bit, his eyes flashing angrily, but then he looked down at Castiel, and he ... softened. Slumped, with maybe a little helpless smile.
"Yeah," Dean said, almost bemused, but oddly happy about it. "I guess I wouldn't mind, at that."
"Oh, thank God," Sam muttered behind him, rolling out of the bed and flashing the two angels an apologetic look. "Sorry, guys. But it's about time, you idiot!" He slapped the back of Dean's head in passing.
"Hey! Bitch!"
"Shut up," Sam growled, but nicely. He was grinning as he shambled over towards a likely-looking door, the bathroom, presumably. "If I'd known all it took was someone knocking you in bed together in a drunken stupor, I'd have done it ages ago."
"Um?" Castiel blinked, and Gabriel grinned, nodding sagely in Sam's direction.
"Gigantor has a point, little bro," the archangel agreed. "The pair of you are so obvious, and so oblivious it's almost painful. If I hadn't been otherwise occupied at the time, I might have locked you and Deano here in a closet the last time we met. Honestly. The calf-eyes, the touching ..."
"Yeah, shut up," Dean growled, reaching down to rest his hand on Castiel's shoulder as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed next to him, swaying a bit as he used the angel to steady himself. Castiel smiled up at him, resting a steading hand on top of Dean's, trying to ignore the little happy wriggle in his chest.
Gabriel looked at their hands, and very pointedly didn't say anything. He didn't say it so loudly that Castiel would have felt like hitting him, if he hadn't been so happy that the archangel was right. Gabriel was right. Him and Dean ... and Dean was looking down at him, and there was something so very soft in his expression, something hard-edged and bewildered, but gentle, warm ...
"I'll just go and see what Sammy's doing, shall I?" the archangel said brightly, standing up behind them. They ignored him. "Absolutely. I'll just go check on Gigantor, you two don't mind me ..."
"Go away," Dean growled, leaning down to rest his forehead against Castiel's in exasperation. Which put his mouth very close to Castiel's ...
"I agree," the angel whispered softly. "Go away, Gabriel. Now."
He went. They didn't really notice.
"Hey, chucklehead!" Dean grumped, looking over at Gabriel. "Where've Jekyll and Hyde buggered off to?"
"Dean," Castiel chided gently. There was no need to call them names. Well. No need to call Aziraphale names, anyway. But he looked over at Gabriel himself. Sam was busy drying his hair, wandering absently over to the window.
The archangel shrugged at them. "I don't know why you're looking at me. I've been here the whole time."
"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Watching us sleep like a creepy stalker person." Gabriel smirked at him.
"You never seemed to have a problem with Castiel doing it," he pointed out, rather too smugly for Castiel's liking. Dean had had a problem with it, in the beginning. Castiel liked to think he'd earned the right, since then. A right Gabriel hadn't, he felt, not yet. The proprietary feeling inside him startled even him a little bit, though.
"Cas is different," Dean growled, coming up behind him and hugging him close, and Castiel decided he could feel as proprietary as he liked. Dean was his.
"So I see," Gabriel murmured, smirking faintly, but also looking vaguely wistful. Castiel frowned, opening his mouth, but Sam spoke up before he could, and there was something in his voice that had all three of them stiffening and paying attention.
"Uh, guys?" the younger Winchester said distantly, looking out the window, his towel hanging limply from his hand. "I, uh. I think I found them." Castiel frowned, moving over to peer around Sam's bulk out the window, and froze. He felt more than saw Gabriel do the same beside him. Dean, somewhere behind them, whistled softly.
Outside, in the garden at the back of the house, Aziraphale lay on his stomach underneath an apple tree, his head pillowed on his arms, his wings spread out to either side, a blissful smile on his face. Crowley perched beside his hip, leaning over him, grinning faintly as he whispered something in the angel's ear. None of that was the problem, though.
The problem was that the demon had his hands in his brother's wings.
Castiel stared, mutely, distantly shocked, as Crowley moved clever fingers over and through Aziraphale's feathers, petting and grooming, lifting shafts carefully into alignment. The angel shuddered softly beneath his hands, smiling and saying something that made Crowley laugh, made the demon lean in to nuzzle the joints at the base of the wings and cause Aziraphale jump a little, and reach back to flap a hand in Crowley's face until he let off. The demon did, grinning hugely, and whispered a hand up along the bone in apology. Aziraphale huffed a little, and lay back with a smile.
"Wow," Dean said, behind Castiel. "That looks ... cozy?" Castiel made a little sound, too muddled to be a word, too distant and shocked, and felt Dean turn to him in confusion. "Cas? You okay?" Dean looked between him and the scene outside the window, looked at Castiel's shock and its supposed cause, and Cas knew the human didn't understand, but he couldn't quite marshall the focus to explain.
Luckily, Gabriel had no such problem.
"It's ... It's impossible," the archangel said, harshly, his eyes fixed on the pair in the garden. "It's not ... To offer another your wings ... we don't do that. Angels don't do that. Not even with each other, not anymore, and with a demon ..." He trailed off, shaking his head, and Castiel saw the humans look at each other over their heads.
"What's wrong with it?" Sam asked, hesitantly. He looked out as well, watching Aziraphale laugh happily, shivering under Crowley's touch. "It doesn't look ..."
"It's trust," Castiel said softly, roughly. "When someone has your wings ... they can hold you in place. You can't escape, if someone has your wings. You can't protect yourself. You're ... open. Completely vulnerable. They could do anything to you, like that. To offer someone else that kind of power ..."
"We don't do it," Gabriel finished, cold and blank. "Not since ... it isn't done anymore. Not unless you trust that angel absolutely, not unless you'd live and die for them. Not unless you ..."
"Love them," Castiel finished, barely a whisper. "Not unless you love them. Deeply. Truly. Only then. Only if you are willing to let them tear you open if they want to. Aziraphale ..."
"He's either bewitched, or he really has fallen for the demon," Gabriel said, something hard and chill in his voice, something almost vicious. He radiated power, suddenly, a rich, deadly force, only more obvious for his lack of physical presence. Castiel flinched, a little, but he understood. This time, he did understand.
Sam and Dean, on the other hand, didn't seem to. "He looks happy enough," Dean offered, resting a hand on Castiel's shoulder as he watched them. Crowley had moved on, out to the flight feathers, the primaries, running the long shafts lovingly through his fingers, brushing his thumbs over the roots where they joined the wing, his expression focused and soft as Aziraphale murmured blissfully at him. "I don't think Crowley would hurt ..."
"It doesn't matter!" Gabriel snapped. "It doesn't matter! You don't let someone do that! Especially not a demon. You just don't!"
The humans froze, frowning properly now, looking between Gabriel and him with expressions somewhere between suspicion, worry and pity. "Then, you haven't ..." Sam asked slowly. "Neither of you have ever ...?"
Castiel sighed, slumping a little. He'd hoped they wouldn't ask that. "Once," he admitted, very softly, looking down at the floor, sensing as Gabriel turned to look at him, sensing the humans' weighing stares.
"Who was it?" Dean asked, very gently, wrapping his arms around Castiel from behind. Cas wondered if Dean understood what he was asking, what it would mean ... but he did. Somehow, Castiel knew he did. And of anyone who could have asked, Dean deserved that answer from him.
"Anna," he said, very quietly. "A long time ago, but ... Anna. When we were garrisoned together. Anna." Anna, the angel he'd betrayed. Anna, the angel who'd tried to kill Sam. Anna, whom he'd failed, and who failed him in return. Anna, who once upon a time he'd trusted with his wings, his heart, everything. Anna, whom he'd threatened to kill, for Sam's sake, for Dean and Sam and all they'd come to mean. Anna, who'd died soon after. Anna.
"Aw hell, Cas," Dean whispered, leaning in to rest his chin on Castiel's shoulders, to hug him tight. "I'm sorry, man. I'm really sorry." And Castiel didn't understand that, not really, not when there was nothing Dean could have done, not when Dean hadn't even known the depths of Castiel's betrayal back then, or how much it had hurt him.
"Huh," Gabriel said, frowning at him a little, puzzled and sympathetic, and then bitter. Pained. "Not bad, little brother. Not bad. But I might have you beat, there."
They frowned at him, Dean growling a little at the archangel's lack of sympathy, Sam just bewildered. But Castiel was looking at his brother, and the way his shoulders had locked tight and pained. "Gabriel?" he asked, gently. The archangel looked away.
"Lucifer," he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. "The last person to touch my wings ... was Lucifer."
Oh. Castiel ... didn't know what to do with that, really. Didn't know what to think. Looking at Sam, at his stunned expression as he met Dean's eyes behind Cas, he thought they didn't really know what to do with it either. Gabriel seemed to sense that, or sense something, and looked back at them, eyes widening as he took in their expressions.
"Not like that," he said, shocked, a little angry, and a touch of rueful amusement. "Get your minds out of the gutters, will you!" He paused, looking back out, not meeting anyone's eyes. "He was my brother, alright? Once upon a time ... once upon a time I thought that meant I could trust him." A bitter little smile. "Once upon a time, I thought I could trust a lot of things. But my brother ..."
He stopped, trailed off, but the damage was already done. Castiel felt more than saw Dean uncurl an arm from around him, and reach out to catch a stricken Sam's arm, to whisper "I trust you" to his brother's pained face, but Castiel was focused on his own brother, on the taut line of Gabriel's shoulders, on the stiffness of his spine and the pain in the determined cant of his head. Away from them. Away from everyone, looking out blindly over the garden.
Before he could let himself think about it too much, before he could wonder if he had the right, in the face of that pain, Castiel reached out, and laid a hand very gently on the archangel's shoulder. Very gently, and very carefully. Without looking as Sam and Dean bunched together behind him, he waited until he was sure Gabriel wasn't going to shrug him off, and gently tugged him back into the shelter of their bodies, back into the little family they had made. Dean curled around him from behind, nodding approval into Cas' shoulder, and Sam reached out silently on Gabriel's other side, his huge hand brushing the archangel's arm comfortingly.
Gabriel said nothing, didn't move, didn't relax. He didn't look at them, didn't stop staring blindly. But after a minute, his hand reached up to rest over Castiel's, and squeeze out his thanks. Castiel wondered if he realised what this meant. Wondered if he knew he was part of their family, now. Wondered if he knew how few people the Winchesters would welcome this way.
He hoped Gabriel did. Just to make that hard hurt go away. He hoped his brother knew.
"Maybe, sometimes," Castiel whispered softly. "Maybe sometimes you can trust them. Maybe?"
Below them, Aziraphale sat up under the apple tree, knocking a laughing Crowley back onto his heels. Grinning, the angel turned and launched himself on his companion, wrapping his arms around his waist and bearing the demon to the ground. Crowley laughed, wriggling beneath him, hands curling around his angel's shoulders as if to push him back, but doing a better job of just holding on. As Castiel watched, Aziraphale sat up a little, one hand reaching behind his demon's shoulder in silent question, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Crowley's nose as the demon smiled faintly, and let his wings unfurl along the ground beside them. Aziraphale smiled, dipping down to brush his lips over Crowley's, deepening the kiss as if in reward, and carded plump fingers gently through his feathers.
"Maybe sometimes you can trust them," Castiel repeated, but more strongly, more surely, as beneath them an angel smiled happily and curled his fingers in a demon's trust, and kissed a smile given willingly. He leaned back into the warmth of his human, held his brother's hand as Sam loomed comfortingly, and smiled. "Maybe some people are worth trusting."
And no-one disagreed with him. In the morning light, as an angel and a demon made love under an apple tree, not one of them disagreed.
Interlude: Good Intentions
Title: Morning
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Good Omens, Supernatural
Continuity: Set immediately after Making Deals With Devils
Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Dean, Gabriel, Sam, Crowley, Aziraphale. Dean/Castiel (finally getting a little action), Crowley/Aziraphale (getting a lot of action). Past Castiel/Anna hinted strongly at, too. Sam and Gabriel ... not yet, I'm afraid, but getting there.
Summary: The morning after the night before.
Wordcount: 3680
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. I'd probably look after them all better.
Warnings: Wing-kink. Icarus is my nomme de plume, after all.
Morning
Castiel woke up. It took him a long minute to understand the sensation, to realise that he was conscious now because he hadn't been before, to realise that he'd been asleep. He'd never ... he'd never done that before. It wasn't like being unconscious, wasn't like being so exhausted and battered that he could no longer hold on to the world. It wasn't like coming back from the past that time. It was ... almost pleasant. Soft and languorous, and a little bit fuzzy around the edges. It was ... nice.It took him a moment to realise anything beyond that. Took him a moment to realise that someone must have done something to him, 'whammied' him, as Dean would say, for him to have fallen asleep in the first place. Took a moment to realise that something might ... something might be wrong, there might be danger, he had to ...
"You're safe, kiddo," someone said, a little way off. Gabriel. Gabriel? Had he ...? Oh! He remembered. He remembered the archangel and the demon, getting ... very drunk. He remembered Aziraphale scolding someone. Possibly him? No. No. Crowley, that was it. And Gabriel. And then, while the angel harried them, they had ...
Something moved behind him. Shifted lazily to wrap an arm around his waist and mumble something into the back of his neck. Castiel froze, a little yelp escaping him before he could stop it, and Gabriel chuckled a little in the distance.
"He's been cuddling you all morning, you know," the archangel said quietly, sounding very amused about it. "Who knew Deano was such a closet snuggler? Then again, he and Sammy were so out of it, I could have been a pillow, if I'd sat still long enough." Castiel thought there might be something almost wistful in his voice, there, but it was quickly squashed as Gabriel went on. "He latched onto you when we tried to move him, and well ... it was just easier to dump you both into bed, and leave you to get on with it. You weren't exactly all there yourself, you know."
"Um," said Castiel. "What ... where's ... um."
Gabriel snickered, coming into view around the bottom of the bed, his mouth twisted into his usual smirk, but there was something different about it. Something ... soft? "Sammy's on the other side of Dean. Actually, if you can feel your hip, I think that's his hand. Frankly, I'm surprised Dean can breathe, stuck in the middle like that. Crowley's got pretty big beds, but this is Gigantor we're talking about ..."
"Um," Cas said again. He couldn't think of anything better. Many confusing things had been happening to him of late, and he'd thought he'd gotten used to it, to the constant uncertainty, but this ... "Um."
Gabriel grinned at him, shaking his head. "What's wrong, kiddo? Never woken up with a pretty human wrapped around you before? Not that Dean's what I'd call pretty, mind you, or even especially good looking ..."
Castiel frowned at that. "Dean is beautiful," he protested, almost on instinct. Dean was. Even in Hell, even twisted and torn, his soul had shone, so beautiful, so much a wonder, so much of what made their Father's work worth fighting for. Dean was always beautiful to him. So was Sam, really, in his way, but Dean ... He realised Gabriel was staring at him again, and blinked owlishly at the archangel. Gabriel's face twitched powerfully, like he was trying to suppress some mighty emotion, something Castiel couldn't see enough to understand. Amusement, maybe? Knowing Gabriel? Although, given the last few minutes, maybe not.
But before he could ask, something else flickered over the archangel's face, surprise and then amusement, as he looked over Castiel's shoulder ...
"Wha? Who?" Dean shifted behind him, and Castiel stiffened, causing Dean's arm to tighten around him convulsively. Causing Dean to realise that there was someone for his arm to tighten around. Causing ...
"What the hell!"
Dean sat up in panic, flailing a little, almost rolling Castiel out of the bed in the process. His head shot from side to side, eyes blearily glaring at anything in sight, and Castiel ... had to laugh. He just had to laugh. Big, rolling, helpless giggles as Dean turned to glare down at him in bewilderment, as he raised one hand to smush his own face, as if he could rewrite reality just by blocking it out for a second. Castiel laughed until his chest hurt, laughed until he had to stop or forget what breathing was supposed to be, one or the other, and then ...
"Dean?" Sam murmured from the other side, raising his shaggy head to peer at Castiel across his brother's lap. Sam frowned at him for a second, trying to remember who he was, maybe, and then he closed his eyes with a groan and dropped his head back to the mattress. "Jeez, Dean, couldn't you have waiting until we weren't sharing the bed? I so did not need to wake up to that!"
"What?" Dean yelped. "No! We didn't ... we weren't ... Sammy! I did not."
There was a choking sound from the bottom of the bed, and Castiel looked down to see Gabriel stuffing a fist in his mouth, shoulders shaking. He thought about being angry, maybe, because only he was allowed to laugh at his Winchesters, but, well, they were pretty funny. He grinned down at his brother, too light and happy to bother with anything else, and felt his heart trip a little when Gabriel grinned back.
"Something funny, chucklehead?" Dean asked dangerously, glaring at the archangel, and Castiel blinked a bit when Dean's arm came back around his shoulders, almost protectively. Dean's other hand rested defensively on Sam's shoulder as he growled blearily, and for a moment, for a moment so pure and bright it almost hurt, Castiel felt part of something, something small and battered and strong and pure. Something like family, or like how family should be. He gasped a little, shuddered, and Dean looked down at him, green eyes wide and blinking, confused at first and then ... understanding. Gentle. Embarrassed and proud.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel whispered, very quietly. Dean smiled, a little twitch in the corner of his mouth, and his thumb stroked a little at Castiel's shoulder-blades.
"Hey, Cas," he murmured back, voice still soft and a little crushed by sleep. "Ah. Morning?" Castiel smiled.
"I believe so, yes," he said, letting a little curl enter his voice, a little wisp of humour. Dean grinned, and hit him behind the ear. Only lightly, though. Castiel retaliated with a poke in the hip, since it was all he could reach from under the covers.
"Smartass," his human grinned, ruffling his hair. "Note to self, the angel is a smartass in the mornings."
"My ass is not particularly smart," Castiel deadpanned solemnly, watching Dean look at him with exasperation, waiting for that bemused, frustrated expression before he allowed his lips to curl upwards a little and reveal the joke. Dean stared at him in shock for a long moment, and then ...
Then, Dean pushed him out of the bed.
Castiel hit the floor with a loud thump, and an undignified squawk, and Gabriel fell off beside him laughing. Castiel flailed for a minute, stunned, then lay still, brushing hair out of his eyes, and glared at his brother, and Dean, and a bewildered and snickering Sam for good measure. All it did was make the lot of them laugh harder.
"Oh," Gabriel breathed, sitting up to flash Dean an almost admiring look. "Oh, you lot. You lot are perfect." He grinned helplessly. "Just what an archangel needs in the morning. Grumpy humans to torment his little brother."
"Thank you," Castiel muttered, a little snippily, pulling himself up onto his knees, leaning on the edge of the bed so he could glare at them better. "My first ever morning wake-up. Thank you for that."
Gabriel grinned. "Aw, hey, little bro. It's not so bad." He reached out to pat Castiel condescendingly on the shoulder. "Now that you've gotten the hang of it, I'm sure you'll have many other happy mornings to look forward to." He looked at Dean, there, and for some reason Castiel couldn't fathom, his eyes hardened a little. Almost threateningly. "I'm sure Dean over here wouldn't mind showing you the ropes, as it were. Would you, Deano?" A menacing purr, and Dean stiffened a bit, his eyes flashing angrily, but then he looked down at Castiel, and he ... softened. Slumped, with maybe a little helpless smile.
"Yeah," Dean said, almost bemused, but oddly happy about it. "I guess I wouldn't mind, at that."
"Oh, thank God," Sam muttered behind him, rolling out of the bed and flashing the two angels an apologetic look. "Sorry, guys. But it's about time, you idiot!" He slapped the back of Dean's head in passing.
"Hey! Bitch!"
"Shut up," Sam growled, but nicely. He was grinning as he shambled over towards a likely-looking door, the bathroom, presumably. "If I'd known all it took was someone knocking you in bed together in a drunken stupor, I'd have done it ages ago."
"Um?" Castiel blinked, and Gabriel grinned, nodding sagely in Sam's direction.
"Gigantor has a point, little bro," the archangel agreed. "The pair of you are so obvious, and so oblivious it's almost painful. If I hadn't been otherwise occupied at the time, I might have locked you and Deano here in a closet the last time we met. Honestly. The calf-eyes, the touching ..."
"Yeah, shut up," Dean growled, reaching down to rest his hand on Castiel's shoulder as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed next to him, swaying a bit as he used the angel to steady himself. Castiel smiled up at him, resting a steading hand on top of Dean's, trying to ignore the little happy wriggle in his chest.
Gabriel looked at their hands, and very pointedly didn't say anything. He didn't say it so loudly that Castiel would have felt like hitting him, if he hadn't been so happy that the archangel was right. Gabriel was right. Him and Dean ... and Dean was looking down at him, and there was something so very soft in his expression, something hard-edged and bewildered, but gentle, warm ...
"I'll just go and see what Sammy's doing, shall I?" the archangel said brightly, standing up behind them. They ignored him. "Absolutely. I'll just go check on Gigantor, you two don't mind me ..."
"Go away," Dean growled, leaning down to rest his forehead against Castiel's in exasperation. Which put his mouth very close to Castiel's ...
"I agree," the angel whispered softly. "Go away, Gabriel. Now."
He went. They didn't really notice.
***
It was only later, when he and Dean had come up for air and remembered where they were (also who they were, and the necessity for that had Castiel mildly concerned), and once Sam had stopped trying to beat Gabriel up for spying on him in the shower ("Hey, it was either watch you or them, Sammy! And you're much easier on the eyes ..."), that they realised they were missing someone. Two someones, actually.
"Hey, chucklehead!" Dean grumped, looking over at Gabriel. "Where've Jekyll and Hyde buggered off to?"
"Dean," Castiel chided gently. There was no need to call them names. Well. No need to call Aziraphale names, anyway. But he looked over at Gabriel himself. Sam was busy drying his hair, wandering absently over to the window.
The archangel shrugged at them. "I don't know why you're looking at me. I've been here the whole time."
"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Watching us sleep like a creepy stalker person." Gabriel smirked at him.
"You never seemed to have a problem with Castiel doing it," he pointed out, rather too smugly for Castiel's liking. Dean had had a problem with it, in the beginning. Castiel liked to think he'd earned the right, since then. A right Gabriel hadn't, he felt, not yet. The proprietary feeling inside him startled even him a little bit, though.
"Cas is different," Dean growled, coming up behind him and hugging him close, and Castiel decided he could feel as proprietary as he liked. Dean was his.
"So I see," Gabriel murmured, smirking faintly, but also looking vaguely wistful. Castiel frowned, opening his mouth, but Sam spoke up before he could, and there was something in his voice that had all three of them stiffening and paying attention.
"Uh, guys?" the younger Winchester said distantly, looking out the window, his towel hanging limply from his hand. "I, uh. I think I found them." Castiel frowned, moving over to peer around Sam's bulk out the window, and froze. He felt more than saw Gabriel do the same beside him. Dean, somewhere behind them, whistled softly.
Outside, in the garden at the back of the house, Aziraphale lay on his stomach underneath an apple tree, his head pillowed on his arms, his wings spread out to either side, a blissful smile on his face. Crowley perched beside his hip, leaning over him, grinning faintly as he whispered something in the angel's ear. None of that was the problem, though.
The problem was that the demon had his hands in his brother's wings.
Castiel stared, mutely, distantly shocked, as Crowley moved clever fingers over and through Aziraphale's feathers, petting and grooming, lifting shafts carefully into alignment. The angel shuddered softly beneath his hands, smiling and saying something that made Crowley laugh, made the demon lean in to nuzzle the joints at the base of the wings and cause Aziraphale jump a little, and reach back to flap a hand in Crowley's face until he let off. The demon did, grinning hugely, and whispered a hand up along the bone in apology. Aziraphale huffed a little, and lay back with a smile.
"Wow," Dean said, behind Castiel. "That looks ... cozy?" Castiel made a little sound, too muddled to be a word, too distant and shocked, and felt Dean turn to him in confusion. "Cas? You okay?" Dean looked between him and the scene outside the window, looked at Castiel's shock and its supposed cause, and Cas knew the human didn't understand, but he couldn't quite marshall the focus to explain.
Luckily, Gabriel had no such problem.
"It's ... It's impossible," the archangel said, harshly, his eyes fixed on the pair in the garden. "It's not ... To offer another your wings ... we don't do that. Angels don't do that. Not even with each other, not anymore, and with a demon ..." He trailed off, shaking his head, and Castiel saw the humans look at each other over their heads.
"What's wrong with it?" Sam asked, hesitantly. He looked out as well, watching Aziraphale laugh happily, shivering under Crowley's touch. "It doesn't look ..."
"It's trust," Castiel said softly, roughly. "When someone has your wings ... they can hold you in place. You can't escape, if someone has your wings. You can't protect yourself. You're ... open. Completely vulnerable. They could do anything to you, like that. To offer someone else that kind of power ..."
"We don't do it," Gabriel finished, cold and blank. "Not since ... it isn't done anymore. Not unless you trust that angel absolutely, not unless you'd live and die for them. Not unless you ..."
"Love them," Castiel finished, barely a whisper. "Not unless you love them. Deeply. Truly. Only then. Only if you are willing to let them tear you open if they want to. Aziraphale ..."
"He's either bewitched, or he really has fallen for the demon," Gabriel said, something hard and chill in his voice, something almost vicious. He radiated power, suddenly, a rich, deadly force, only more obvious for his lack of physical presence. Castiel flinched, a little, but he understood. This time, he did understand.
Sam and Dean, on the other hand, didn't seem to. "He looks happy enough," Dean offered, resting a hand on Castiel's shoulder as he watched them. Crowley had moved on, out to the flight feathers, the primaries, running the long shafts lovingly through his fingers, brushing his thumbs over the roots where they joined the wing, his expression focused and soft as Aziraphale murmured blissfully at him. "I don't think Crowley would hurt ..."
"It doesn't matter!" Gabriel snapped. "It doesn't matter! You don't let someone do that! Especially not a demon. You just don't!"
The humans froze, frowning properly now, looking between Gabriel and him with expressions somewhere between suspicion, worry and pity. "Then, you haven't ..." Sam asked slowly. "Neither of you have ever ...?"
Castiel sighed, slumping a little. He'd hoped they wouldn't ask that. "Once," he admitted, very softly, looking down at the floor, sensing as Gabriel turned to look at him, sensing the humans' weighing stares.
"Who was it?" Dean asked, very gently, wrapping his arms around Castiel from behind. Cas wondered if Dean understood what he was asking, what it would mean ... but he did. Somehow, Castiel knew he did. And of anyone who could have asked, Dean deserved that answer from him.
"Anna," he said, very quietly. "A long time ago, but ... Anna. When we were garrisoned together. Anna." Anna, the angel he'd betrayed. Anna, the angel who'd tried to kill Sam. Anna, whom he'd failed, and who failed him in return. Anna, who once upon a time he'd trusted with his wings, his heart, everything. Anna, whom he'd threatened to kill, for Sam's sake, for Dean and Sam and all they'd come to mean. Anna, who'd died soon after. Anna.
"Aw hell, Cas," Dean whispered, leaning in to rest his chin on Castiel's shoulders, to hug him tight. "I'm sorry, man. I'm really sorry." And Castiel didn't understand that, not really, not when there was nothing Dean could have done, not when Dean hadn't even known the depths of Castiel's betrayal back then, or how much it had hurt him.
"Huh," Gabriel said, frowning at him a little, puzzled and sympathetic, and then bitter. Pained. "Not bad, little brother. Not bad. But I might have you beat, there."
They frowned at him, Dean growling a little at the archangel's lack of sympathy, Sam just bewildered. But Castiel was looking at his brother, and the way his shoulders had locked tight and pained. "Gabriel?" he asked, gently. The archangel looked away.
"Lucifer," he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. "The last person to touch my wings ... was Lucifer."
Oh. Castiel ... didn't know what to do with that, really. Didn't know what to think. Looking at Sam, at his stunned expression as he met Dean's eyes behind Cas, he thought they didn't really know what to do with it either. Gabriel seemed to sense that, or sense something, and looked back at them, eyes widening as he took in their expressions.
"Not like that," he said, shocked, a little angry, and a touch of rueful amusement. "Get your minds out of the gutters, will you!" He paused, looking back out, not meeting anyone's eyes. "He was my brother, alright? Once upon a time ... once upon a time I thought that meant I could trust him." A bitter little smile. "Once upon a time, I thought I could trust a lot of things. But my brother ..."
He stopped, trailed off, but the damage was already done. Castiel felt more than saw Dean uncurl an arm from around him, and reach out to catch a stricken Sam's arm, to whisper "I trust you" to his brother's pained face, but Castiel was focused on his own brother, on the taut line of Gabriel's shoulders, on the stiffness of his spine and the pain in the determined cant of his head. Away from them. Away from everyone, looking out blindly over the garden.
Before he could let himself think about it too much, before he could wonder if he had the right, in the face of that pain, Castiel reached out, and laid a hand very gently on the archangel's shoulder. Very gently, and very carefully. Without looking as Sam and Dean bunched together behind him, he waited until he was sure Gabriel wasn't going to shrug him off, and gently tugged him back into the shelter of their bodies, back into the little family they had made. Dean curled around him from behind, nodding approval into Cas' shoulder, and Sam reached out silently on Gabriel's other side, his huge hand brushing the archangel's arm comfortingly.
Gabriel said nothing, didn't move, didn't relax. He didn't look at them, didn't stop staring blindly. But after a minute, his hand reached up to rest over Castiel's, and squeeze out his thanks. Castiel wondered if he realised what this meant. Wondered if he knew he was part of their family, now. Wondered if he knew how few people the Winchesters would welcome this way.
He hoped Gabriel did. Just to make that hard hurt go away. He hoped his brother knew.
"Maybe, sometimes," Castiel whispered softly. "Maybe sometimes you can trust them. Maybe?"
Below them, Aziraphale sat up under the apple tree, knocking a laughing Crowley back onto his heels. Grinning, the angel turned and launched himself on his companion, wrapping his arms around his waist and bearing the demon to the ground. Crowley laughed, wriggling beneath him, hands curling around his angel's shoulders as if to push him back, but doing a better job of just holding on. As Castiel watched, Aziraphale sat up a little, one hand reaching behind his demon's shoulder in silent question, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Crowley's nose as the demon smiled faintly, and let his wings unfurl along the ground beside them. Aziraphale smiled, dipping down to brush his lips over Crowley's, deepening the kiss as if in reward, and carded plump fingers gently through his feathers.
"Maybe sometimes you can trust them," Castiel repeated, but more strongly, more surely, as beneath them an angel smiled happily and curled his fingers in a demon's trust, and kissed a smile given willingly. He leaned back into the warmth of his human, held his brother's hand as Sam loomed comfortingly, and smiled. "Maybe some people are worth trusting."
And no-one disagreed with him. In the morning light, as an angel and a demon made love under an apple tree, not one of them disagreed.
Interlude: Good Intentions
