To Fix an Angel

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/48505624.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)
Additional Tags: Fluff, Meet-Cute, First Meetings, No Smut, Temporary Amnesia,
Amnesia, Poor Castiel (Supernatural), Mechanic Dean Winchester,
Alternate Universe, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Angel Castiel
(Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute Ending
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-07-11 Words: 14,007 Chapters: 4/4
 To Fix an Angel
by Peri_winkle

Summary

Dean could fix just about any car, no matter the issue. It could have two hundred plus things
going wrong with it, and Dean always promised he could figure it out. And he always did. He
always had such a love for cars, especially his own: Baby. The ‘67 Chevy Impala was Dean’s
literal child. He’d even consider reading it a bedtime story as it was parked out front before
bed, if only it wouldn’t make his neighbors think he’s lost it. Sadly, one thing he wasn’t really
sure how to fix was angels, as he soon finds out really do exist.

Or Cas crashes into Dean’s bedroom window with a horrid case of amnesia, and Dean's in
love at first sight.
 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes

Also, this fic is very AU. My take on angels in this one is a little different from
supernatural just for the fic's sake, like angel's wings being seen and energy being
needed in order to hide them

Dean could fix just about any car, no matter the issue. It could have two hundred plus things
going wrong with it, and Dean always promised he could figure it out. And he always did. He
always had such a love for cars, especially his own: Baby. The ‘67 Chevy Impala was Dean’s
literal child. He’d even consider reading it a bedtime story as it was parked out front before
bed, if only it wouldn’t make his neighbors think he’s lost it. Sadly, one thing he wasn’t really
sure how to fix was angels, as he soon finds out really do exist.

He had just settled in for the night, excited to have the next couple of days off after a full
week of working at the garage. He was laying in bed, facing his bedroom door thinking about
how he should spend his time off. Usually he would call his brother, but Sam had told him he
needed at least a little time to himself tomorrow to work on some project. Dean was so proud
of his little brother Sammy. The kid was currently working his ass off in law school,
determined to become one of those suit wearing monkeys. Dean teased him severely for it,
but that’s what brothers were for. Nonetheless, Dean was overflowing with pride for his baby
brother. He had pretty much a full ride scholarship and was quite the “smarty pants”, as Dean
liked to call him. Either way, Dean was stuck with a whole day tomorrow to himself. Not that
he was complaining. Maybe he could just plop on the couch, binge some shows, and pig out
on some junk food. That sounded pretty fun, actually.

As Dean thought of possible snack ideas for his couch plopping tomorrow, he turned onto his
other side, so he was now facing the window in his room now. Damn, he had forgotten to
close the curtains. The sun would be streaming in as soon as dawn arrived, and Dean would
most definitely throw a fit at that. He gazed out the window for a moment before he could
sum up the energy to get up and cover it. The moon was just starting to lose its illumination,
appearing like a bright sugar cookie that someone took a nice chomp out of in the night sky.
Surrounding it were several stars, gleaming against the dark blue color of the sky. There were
even some birds…birds? At this hour.
Dean squinted at the large dark figure in the sky, propping himself up on his elbow. Those are
some big birds, Dean thought as he leaned forward slightly to try and get a better look. As he
did, he noticed that they were indeed, not birds…but…a bird? One big ass bird maybe?

Then, Dean suddenly startled when he noticed the figure getting closer and closer. To him. To
his window.

“Oh shit,” Dean mumbled as he sat fully up now, but he didn’t even have time to kick off his
blankets before the figure was right outside.

Dean closed his eyes and braced himself as the figure showed no hesitation in its track right
towards Dean’s bedroom window. With a sickening crack and shatter, the figure rammed
right into the glass, breaking through and sending glass everywhere. Dean swore loudly,
covering his face with his arms. His bed, being almost right under the window, happened to
catch the creature’s fall. Sadly, this meant Dean’s body also caught the fall, as it landed right
on top of him. It was heavy enough to be a person, honestly, and the impact had Dean shoved
onto his back again.

Instead of instantly flipping the fuck out, Dean peaked through his arms carefully, trying to
remain calm in whatever kind of situation one would call this. As he took his chances in
looking, the figure groaned, and Dean could hear ruffling noises. The first thing he saw was
feathers, which even though initially he thought this was a bird, he really didn’t expect
feathers with something this large. They were black and attached to huge…wings?

Another groan came from the creature as it shifted. The wings, now looking like giant black
angel wings, rustled and moved, flopping uselessly to the floor and draping off of the bed.
Underneath, they revealed a…man? A rather normal looking man if that. He had a trench
coat on and a basic suit and tie. His hair seemed to match his wings, being very dark and
skewed in every possible direction. His eyes were closed tightly and his face was screwed up
in pain.

“Uh,” Dean said stupidly after a few moments, but what else was he supposed to say?

Instantly, the man’s head shot up from where it was laying on Dean’s stomach. He bracketed
both hands on either side of Dean’s body, lifting himself up more. When his eyes finally did
fly open, Dean saw the most intense and vivid blue eyes he had ever seen.
They stared at Dean owlishly for only barely a minute before the man turned his head to look
around the room. His eye movements skittered around the room before snapping back to
Dean when he cleared his throat.

“You okay, pal?” Dean asked, voice gruff with (almost) sleep.

The man…angel?...winged guy? Suddenly appeared fearful, scrambling off of Dean. He

didn’t seem to have totally collected himself from the crash yet, though, as he ran out of bed
to back onto and toppled onto the floor. His wings ruffled and grew in size, flapping around
and hitting the walls and Dean's furniture. Dean flinched, cringing at every bang.

“Okay, okay, you’re alright,” Dean reassured while also trying to dodge the wing's vicious
flaps himself. “I won’t hurt you, okay?”

Dean hoped it was either his attempt at a comforting tone or his calm words, but the man did
start to relax. He tried to straighten out his wings before bringing them closer to his body.
They curled in on themselves and crowded around the man’s huddled form on the floor. He
was sitting on his knees, staring off at the floor and holding his head, a confused and troubled
expression on his face. Dean leaned forward from where he was still perched on his bed,
leaning on his hands in order to peer at the guy but to still give him space.

“Wh-where am I?” he finally spoke. His voice was very rough, rougher and deeper than
Dean’s. It sent a couple of chills down Dean’s spine, actually.

Dean had to mentally shake himself to his senses in order to snap out of his staring and
answer him. “Well, I usually call this my bedroom, but you seem to think it’s a landing strip.”

The man looked up at him again, shooting a confused glare Dean’s way. He had thick
eyebrows that knitted tightly against his narrow eyes. He had very handsome features too, but
hey, Dean was just pointing out the obvious. He had a small square shaped face that held a
neutral and soft type of look. It didn’t match his rougher voice, but Dean liked it anyway. He
was interesting to say the least.
“Lawrence,” Dean said eventually. “You’re in Lawrence, Kansas.”

The man’s eyes went distant again as he thought about what Dean told him. That didn’t seem
to be the answer he was looking for.

“Okay, buddy, listen, I’m not sure…” Dean started, leaning back to kneel on the bed now. He
was unsure how to really proceed in this type of situation.

“I-I apologize,” the man finally answered, clutching his head again and shaking it. He blinked
several times, and Dean finally noticed there wasn’t a single scratch on the man from literally
bursting through the window. “I’m just a little out of sorts.”

He tried to stand up, but Dean could see the wobbling instantly. He shot out of bed to catch
the man as he started to teeter back towards the floor. Dean’s arms encircled the man’s chest,
his hands coming to just underneath the base of the wings. He couldn’t help the couple of
brushes his fingers did over some of the feathers as he struggled to hold the man up. He
collapsed into Dean, seeming to trust his strength and was too tired to care.

“Okay,” Dean sang, dragging the word out as he spoke. “How about you sit down, yeah?”

Dean tried to get a better grip on the man, trying to turn them so the stranger was the one
closer to the bed. He waddled/walked the winged man to his bed, placing him down gently.
When Dean looked at him again, his eyes were closed tightly in pain, and he was wearing an
intense looking grimace. Dean chanted a string of apologies as he tried to place the man
down as gently as he could. His wings splayed on either side of the bed, stretching out again.
They were really beautiful to Dean, he couldn’t help but admire them. They were a deep
black but seemed to shine in even the dim light from the night sky. They had to have a span
of at least 20 feet across. At least.

Now, seated on the edge of Dean’s bed, the man seemed to be able to better collect himself.

“Do…I just need to rest for a little while, do you mind?” he asked, now rubbing his head,
ruffling his hair even further.
“I…no, but-” before Dean could even finish, the man started to curl up at the end of Dean’s
bed. He seemed to instantly fall asleep as his breathing evened out and his face slowly
relaxed.

Dean just stood there, clueless. He currently had a winged man curled up in his bed looking
very similar to a cat. He had no idea who this guy was, not even his name, but he didn’t seem
to be moving.

“Actually,” Dean started, speaking with a slightly quiet tone. When he noticed it did nothing
to startle the man, he tried raising his volume. “Actually, can I at least have your name?”

Nothing.

“Bro,” Dean signed, louder this time. “Hello! Guy!”

Still nothing.

“Hello!” He tried shouting, but this guy was out cold. And in an inhuman way. Which Dean
guessed made sense, figuring he didn’t really appear to be fully human. Dean even nudged
him a few times, and the man remained completely knocked out.

With a long sigh, Dean left his room, but not before taking his favorite pillow from the bed
that this man-creature obviously was not going to use. He closed his bedroom door and
locked it for good measure. Maybe when he woke up, this would all be some crazy dream.
He’d wake up to his not smashed window, and empty and locked bedroom door. He
considered sleeping on the floor in his room to keep an eye on the man, but he wasn’t sure it
was a good idea to sleep in the same room as a stranger, who he wasn’t even sure was
human.

Dean seemed to feel safe enough on the couch to fall into a deep sleep himself, bundled in a
small throw and with the door securely locked. When he closed his eyes, he began to dream
of his usual nightmares of fire and terror. Only this time, though, they were stopped short,
muddled by something that overpowered the usual fear with a strange calmness. Dean wasn’t
quite sure what he dreamt of instead, but he was happy that they didn’t consist of fire and
horror. He thought he remembered blue, though, in the dream. Strange. Maybe his mind was
still stuck on those vivid blue eyes he saw last night.

Vivid blue eyes…Last night. Last night!

When Dean finally woke up, he instantly felt eyes on him. His own eyes shot open, and he
sat up to look at his bedroom door. And said door was now wide open. Dean was almost
relieved, thinking it was indeed all a dream, but that was crushed when he saw the scattered
glass on the floor and fresh breeze from the gaping window. Holding his breath, Dean slowly
turned his head to the right, towards the side of the living room with the front door, tv, and
another sitting chair. There, in said chair was perched the man from last night. He was sitting
in it, looking rather comfortable as he lounged. His wings were draped on either side along
the floor, having no room to fold up behind him.

“Hello,” he said simply, and Dean just blinked at him before giving him a confused head
nod.

“And…how’d you, ya know, open the door?” Dean asked slowly, brain still idle with sleep
and trying to process what was going on.

“Oh, my name is Castiel. I’m an angel of the lord. Opening a locked door isn’t much of a
challenge for me.”

…alright then.

Dean took a minute of staring at the man with a slightly concentrated expression on before
starting to get up off the couch.

“Alright, I need some coffee for this,” Dean said, trudging to the kitchen as he rubbed his
eye.
So this guy was an actual angel?! Dean was shocked that that didn’t shock him more. Should
it? Right at that moment, though, all he could think of was getting some caffeine into his
system. The angel, Castiel, got off of the chair, folded his wings close to himself, and
followed right after Dean into the kitchen. He crowded right up to Dean, practically pressing
himself into Dean’s back as he tried to peer at what Dean was doing. Dean froze, slowly
looking up at the wall in front of them.

“You wanna back off a little bit, buddy? Ya know, personal space? Ring a bell,” Dean said,
and Castiel instantly took a step back but still remained unusually close.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, though by the tone of his voice, Dean wasn’t sure he really was. “Is
this something you require every day when you wake up?”

“Essentially,” Dean said, waiting for the coffee to brew now. “Lots of people like coffee to
wake them up.”

Castiel hummed. “And you are one of those people?”

Dean nodded, pouring himself a mug. “You want some?”

Castiel made a face at the thought, and Dean figured he’d take that as a no.

“So, since you happened to crash through my window last night and then pass out in my bed,
why don’t you tell me…” Dean drifted off, waving his hand in a motion that said “what’s the
word I’m looking for?”, but Castiel didn’t seem to take that as a hint for him to go, so Dean
continued. “Well, maybe start with the whole angel thing.”

Castiel gazed at him for a moment, eyes practically burning into Dean’s with their stare. “I
believe that is part of my issue…I’m having trouble…remembering.”

Damn, well that’s not good. “Well, shit,” Dean said instead, having zero filter. “You can’t
remember anything?”
Castiel frowned, casting his eyes to the floor and seemed to be concentrating hard. “No…
nothing. I just know that my name is Castiel, and I’m an angel…I just can’t remember
anything else.”

There was a shaky somewhat troubled tone in the angel’s voice that Dean definitely picked
up on. “Nothing about what happened to you? Nothing before that? Your past at all?”

Castiel turned and shook his head. His hands were clenched into fists that he shoved into the
pockets of his trench coat to try and hide his clear frustration. Dean’s hands curled around his
mug tightly to try and restrain himself from patting the guy on the shoulder or something. He
looked so distressed, Dean just wanted to give him some type of comfort.

“All I can recall is…a lot of chaos, but, all the sudden I’m falling through the sky, right into
your window,” Castiel mumbled in a quiet voice, trying to see if he could puzzle something
together, but no luck.

Dean hummed in thought, sipping his coffee some more. He almost jumped out of his skin
when he looked back up, and Castiel was standing directly in front of him now. Personal
space, once again ignored.

“Can I…try it?”

Dean almost let a blush cover his cheeks at the angel’s statement. Castiel was staring right up
at Dean, head tilted in curiosity, and eyes wide with hope that Dean’s answer would be yes.
He looked absolutely adorable. Dean had to tear his eyes away from Castiel’s insanely blue
ones in order to prevent showing his flustered state. “Y-yeah, sure.”

He handed the mug to Castiel, who took a tentative sip. He seemed to consider it a moment,
before squinting his eyes and pursing his lips. “Humans enjoy that?”

Dean laughed. “Some don’t, like you apparently. I do, though. Many others, too.” He took
another sip, trying to still ignore the way Castiel was peering at him.
“And do all humans have those dots, too?” he asked, making Dean blink his eyes a few times
in confusion, slightly startled.

“Dots?” Dean repeated, struggling to not choke on his coffee.

“Yes, those,” Castiel clarified, reaching up and gently bringing his hand up towards Dean’s
nose. Dean flinched back at first but still allowed Castiel to brush his finger against the
middle of Dean’s nose and then along his cheek. His hand was warm, rather than Dean
would’ve thought. He wasn’t sure why, but he was expecting an icy cold touch, not
something warm and somewhat soft.

“My…freckles?” Dean clarified as Castiel traced his finger along the faint speckled dots.

“Freckles, I like them,” Castiel just stated, as if it were not totally out of the blue sounding.

“Well,” Dean started, grabbing Castiel's wrist in a gentle hold and pulling it away from his
face. “That’s real nice and all, but we should talk more about that personal space thing I
mentioned before.”

Realization dawned on Castiel’s features as he quickly took a step back, though again not
very far. “I apologize again.”

“It’s okay,” Dean said with an exhaled laugh. “You just gotta give people their own
imaginary bubble, you know? Let them have some space of their own to breathe in.”

Castiel nodded, as if what Dean was saying was the most intriguing thing he’s heard. “I
understand.”

“So, what do you think you’re going to do?” Dean asked, unsure about how exactly to
approach this situation.
As Castiel looked distant in thought, his gaze snapped over to the window as birds began to
chirp rather aggressively from the tree below Dean’s window. Which still had a gaping hole
in it. That’s probably what Dean was going to have to do today. Dean let out a heavy exhale
of breath at the thought of that instead of his couch plopping like he had originally planned
for. Then, as if he could completely understand what the birds were chirping, Castiel started
walking over to the bedroom window almost in a trance, enthralled with what they had to say.

Dean made sure to slide on some shoes quickly, though, not wanting his barefeet to get cut
up. He followed Castiel right up to the open window. He followed his eyes and saw Castiel
trying to get a view of the small nest that sat a few branches down.

“I…I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Castiel said suddenly, a sad sound in his words.

“You can’t like, just go back up to Heaven? See if any of your buddies know what happened
to you?”

Castiel took a minute to think before answering. “I have a bad feeling about going back up
there…I don’t feel like…I don’t feel like I can trust anyone.”

Dean seemed to startle slightly at that. When he imagined Heaven and what goes on up there,
he imagined a bunch of people and angels chilling in the clouds wearing togas and sipping
margs. What could’ve been happening that made Castiel not want to trust anyone up there?

“I have all of these…feelings, I just can’t remember what caused them,” Castiel said,
pressing a palm to his forehead like last night and grunting in frustration.

“Okay, well, that’s okay,” Dean reassured, not liking seeing the angel so upset. “You might
just need to give yourself time to heal and remember. You have to eventually, right?
Something’s gotta trigger it at some point. I’m not too sure how angel amnesia works if I’m
being honest with you,” Dean laughed, but Castiel didn’t seem to find that too funny.
“Someone may have tried to alter my memories,” Castiel said in thought. “Whatever it is, I
can feel it creating some sort of wall in my mind. I’ll have to take time to break it down, so I
can remember what happened.”

Dean nodded. “And remember who did this to you?”

Castiel nodded this time, looking back down at a bird's nest in the tree below. “They’re
almost ready to fly on their own…they’re hungry though. They want their mother.”

Dean nodded slowly at that, trying his best not to be weirded out. Finishing the rest of his
coffee, Dean stretched his arms and felt a relieving pop in one of his shoulders. “Well, why
don’t you stay here and figure out what they’re trying to say while I run out and…get some
supplies for this.”

Castiel shot his eyes over to Dean when he said that, a startled look on his face. “You’re
leaving?”

“Well, yeah, somebody busted through my window last night, and last time I checked, we
don’t really have any replacement windows on hand at the moment.”

Castiel nodded, face now set in a firm determined look. “Alright, then I will accompany
you.”

Raising his eyebrows at Castiel, Dean chuckled. “You wanna come with me?” Dean then
turned around to rummage through his dresser to get some clothes together. “I think having
some guy with giant feathered wings coming out of his back is gonna be a little attention
grabbing, don’t you think?”

When Dean turned back around, his clothes for the day bundled in his arms, Castiel was
standing in the middle of the room, now completely wingless. Dean widened his eyes in
surprise. It made Castiel appear so much smaller now. He was only just a little shorter than
Dean, maybe by an inch or two, and had a slightly slimmer build to him than Dean. He was
probably a lot stronger than him, however, considering him being an actual angel and all.
“I can make them invisible to the human eye if I need,” Castiel clarified upon seeing Dean’s
expression. “Though, I don’t like to direct my energy towards that all the time, so I only do it
when it’s necessary.”

Dean gave him a short nod. “Gotcha…”

“So I can join you now?” Castiel said, a hint of hopefulness in his voice. It almost made
Dean’s lips twitch into a smile.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure, why not? Just…don’t make any scenes, yeah?”

Dean started to walk over to the bathroom that was attached to his room, cringing when
Castiel started to follow him. “Can I have your name?”

Dean looked over his shoulder as he stood in the bathroom doorway. “It’s Dean. And just
give me a few minutes to change, then we can go,” he said, shutting the door before Castiel
could slip inside.

“Dean,” Castiel hummed, gazing at the closed door.

 2
Chapter Notes

Disclaimer: I have absolutely no idea how to fix a broken window. This process was
totally pulled out of my ass, so if this isn’t the proper window replacement procedure, I
apologize in advance 😂 I just want a cute story hahaah

“But don’t humans usually eat in the morning? There’s supposed to be three meals a day,
correct?” Castiel was tagging along right behind Dean, now nagging him about breakfast of
all things. Dean was leading them through the parking lot towards the window and door
replacement store, which happened to be just a quick drive from them down the road a ways.

“If they want to, yeah, but I don’t usually,” Dean huffed, shoving his hands into the pockets
of his worn green jacket.

“Don’t you need the energy? To fix the window?” Castiel pushed, coming so close to Dean
that he almost brushed against his arm.

Dean shot him a warning look as he opened the front door for them. “Exactly what the coffee
was for.”

Castiel made a face that said a simple “oh”. He entered the store first, as Dean held the door
open and followed in behind him. The angel seemed overwhelmed by the inside. There were
dozens of doors and windows just filling the room on display. He seemed quite overwhelmed
so Dean just led him to the window section, glancing over them quickly, just wanting to get
the correct size. He couldn’t care less about style, just any simple white window would do.

“How are you going to pick just one?” Castiel asked, sounding almost breathless as he looked
up at all of the choices.
Dean made an “I don’t know” noise as he shrugged. “I don’t care much, just as long as it
works. You wanna pick one for me?”

Castiel looked right at Dean, eyes almost sparkling. Dean felt his own eyes widen at the
sight, feeling his stomach do something strange.

“You wish for me to pick?” Then, he turned back to the windows, approaching them until his
nose was merely inches away. “I’m…not sure if I could.”

Dean shrugged once again. “Sure you can, just pick whichever one speaks to you the most.
They all look the same to me.”

“They appear the same to you? But, Dean, they all have different shades and carving styles.
There’s also the ones with the extra wood pattern,” Castiel said as he ran his hand over one of
the sash windows with multiple panes.

“Meh, as I said, I don’t really care. Just yeah avoid those ones. I’d rather not feel like I’m in
prison,” Dean said with a chuckle, and only received a raised eyebrow from Castiel. “Ya
know, cause it looks like prison bars…kinda.”

Castiel looked back and then it seemed to finally click. A small smile appeared on his lips.
“How about that one?”

He had pointed out a cream colored one with soft and smooth curves along the edges. It was
still in the section with the dimensions Dean was looking for, so he nodded. “Looks great.”

Dean got a wide grin in response, and he had to force himself not to smile too stupidly back.
They paid for it, and Castiel pushed to at least carry it back to the car for Dean. That seemed
to confirm the superhuman strength that Dean suspected he had as Castiel showed absolutely
no strain in picking up the window and carrying it through the parking lot. Dean had made
sure the trunk was clear beforehand, and it seemed the trunk was just deep enough to fit it.
“I wanted to formally apologize for destroying a part of your home, Dean,” Castiel said
suddenly as they slid into the front seats.

Dean started the car and gave Castiel a bit of side eye for a second. “I mean, you don’t have
to do that, even though I appreciate it. I know whatever situation you were in, being an angel,
it was probably important.”

Dean chuckled as he spoke, nearly missing the warm smile Castiel had on now at Dean’s
words. Soon, though, it was replaced by a worried frown. “I only wish that I could remember
what happened.”

“Yeah, I mean,” Dean started, a slight nervous tone in his voice. “It can’t be anything too bad,
right? There’s supposed to be all peace and shit up there, right? Paradise and all that?”

Castiel only hummed in response, looking out the window at all of the people walking
through the small town they were passing through. It seemed like your typical busy Sunday, a
few families out shopping, a few kids just hanging out, a few older folks getting out for a
walk. It was also a fairly nice spring day, warm enough for the windows to be opened a bit. It
was a peaceful moment, and despite the confusing events as of late, Dean felt pretty content
then. He came to a stop light and looked over at Castiel.

The angel was looking all around the street, seeming almost overwhelmed with excitement.
He looked like a new puppy who was exploring the world for the first time. His eyes were
wide with emotion as they flitted over practically everything. Dean didn’t even want to
imagine how fast Castiel's brain operated. If he even had a brain? Did angels have brains?
Probably not, being celestial beings. A breeze flew through the window, brushing through
Castiel’s dark hair, shaking the strands around. It looked so soft actually.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, snapping Dean’s attention from staring at Castiel, lost in his thoughts,
to actually looking at him.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the staring, or if he did, he didn’t seem to mind it. “Y-
yeah?”
“Doesn’t holding hands signify a relationship between humans?” Dean raised his eyebrows
high at the question.

“H-holding hands?” he asked, very unsure where this conversation was going to go.

Castiel pointed (rather directly) at a couple walking down the sidewalk a ways in front of
them. It was a pair of women, who were talking amongst themselves and laughing with wide
smiles. They carried a few shopping bags and in their free hands while they held each other’s
as well. By now, the light had turned green, and Dean started to lift his foot from the brake.
He also leaned to the right and gently pushed Castiel’s wrist down so that he lowered his
hand.

“First off, the car doesn’t make you invincible, they can obviously see you if you’re pointing
at them like that. And sure, I mean, sometimes couples who are together hold hands, but they
could just be friends, too. You shouldn’t just assume, ya know?” Dean said as he pulled
forward, thankfully passing the girls without being noticed by them.

“Why would friends hold hands? If it is meant to signify “being together”, as you put it,”
Castiel didn’t even need to make air quotes with his hands for Dean to hear the emphasis on
those words.

“Holding hands is just holding hands, Cas,” Dean said simply, then, cringing at the nickname.
“Sorry, I meant Castiel.”

“Cas?” Castiel repeated, as if testing out the word himself.

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled, coming up to another damn red light. Could they just get back
already? “I just shortened your name by accident, like a nickname, ya know?”

“I…I like it,” Castiel said simply, and Dean couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, anyway, anyone can hold hands if they want. It can mean a lot of things. It can be a
reassuring thing, something romantic couples do, something friends do, whatever.”

Cas nodded in understanding. “So…those two women aren’t in romantic relations?”

Dean couldn’t stop the laugh that practically burst out of him. “They could be, who knows.”

“That’s okay with humans?”

Oh geez. “I mean…I’ve got no idea what Heaven’s opinion is on the matter, but I happen to
not give a shit. And most humans don’t. You love who you love, and how can you control
that?”

They finally pulled up to Dean’s apartment building and parked the car. Cas insisted on
carrying the window again, and Dean wasn’t about to argue against it. They took the elevator
back up to Dean’s floor and entered the now very breezy apartment. The fresh spring air was
now filling the apartment from the busted window and wide open bedroom door. It felt nice,
but Dean would never admit that out loud.

He had Cas put the replacement window on the bed while he grabbed the vacuum to clean up
the mess. Except, as soon as he returned, Cas was standing in the middle of the room, wings
now on full display and a pile of glass in his hands.

“I figured this would be helpful,” Cas said, thrusting his cupped hands out towards Dean
cutely.

“Oh, well, yeah, thank you,” Dean murmured, leaning over to grab his trash can and holding
it for Cas to place the glass in.

“I made sure to get all of the fragments,” Cas said as Dean examined the gaping window. “I
still feel the need to apologize for-”
“Cas, man, it’s fine. I told you,” Dean pushed, effectively shutting the angel up. “Let’s just
replace this thing so we can get some lunch…or at least so I can get some. Do angels even
eat?”

“No, we don’t. Though I am still capable,” Cas answered.

“And…you like to?” Dean asked, using a wedge tool in order to break the old frame off.

“I’ve…never tried, so I’m not sure.”

Dean shot Cas an accusatory look over his shoulder before returning to the task at hand.
“Well, we should try then.”

Cas seemed content with that answer, quietly standing by and watching as Dean worked on
dismantling the old window. It wasn’t a huge project, only taking the rest of the morning to
complete. Dean wouldn’t let Castiel actually use any of the tools or work on the window with
him, but he did allow the angel to hand him the proper tools. He tried to keep his cheeks at a
neutral color, too, whenever Cas let his fingers brush Dean’s from time to time. Cas didn’t
seem to notice at all, just stared at Dean as he worked. Once it was fixed, Dean stood back
and admired his hard work.

“Looks good!” Dean chirped, and without much thought, patted Cas on the shoulder. Quickly,
he took his hand away, trying to play it off. “Lunch, huh?”

Nodding at the idea, Cas smiled and began to help Dean clean up the tools and mess from the
old window.

“We should just go and pick something up. I’m not really sure how well you’d be able to
handle dining in,” Dean observed, mostly to himself of course.
Just as Dean was carrying his tool bag to put it in the closet, he suddenly felt himself being
slammed into the closet door. He shoved against the pressure and found it was Cas pressing
his back into Dean’s, effectively pinning him to the wall. Dean tried to crane his head to look
over his shoulder, but all he could see were feathers.

“Uh…Cas?” Dean asked as he heard the front door knob jiggle.

“There is someone attempting to break into your home,” Cas said shortly, almost with a
growl. All Dean could do was stand there in utter confusion as the door suddenly opened and
a yelp echoed through the room.

“What the fuck!?” Was that Sam?

“You’re trespassing,” Castiel stated plainly, his deep gravelly voice dripping in intimidation.
“Leave, or I will strike you where you stand, giant.”

Okay. Definitely Sam. Dean tried to squirm out from behind Castiel’s body and giant flared
wings, but he was making absolutely no progress.

“Geez, geez, man, look, I just- I must have the wrong place-”

“Fucking hell,” Dean grumbled, now grabbing at the feathers in one hand. He kept his grip
gently but secure enough to tug at them. “Castiel calm down! And let me go!”

Instantly, Cas backed away from Dean, letting him slump off from the wall. Dean turned
around to find, yep, Sam’s head in the doorway. He wore an expression of utter amazement
on his face, mouth open and eyes wide and frantic, trying to absorb the scene in front of him.
Dean could only barely see his face, though, as Castiel was still in front of him, separating
him from Sam. His wings were still outstretched, covering Dean’s view of the rest of Sam’s
tall body. He was also pointing a knife at Sam?
“Cas! Where the hell did you get a knife?!” Dean exclaimed, making Cas turn his head
slightly to cast Dean a look.

His prior expression of anger and ferociousness was soon replaced with his usual expression
of cool calmness. “The kitchen.”

Dean sputtered, slapping one of Castiel’s wings so that he would lower it, and Dean could
reach over and grab the weapon. He was actually surprised when Castiel allowed him to take
the knife so easily.

“Well, it ain’t necessary,” Dean said with a sigh, looking back at his brother with a guilty
smile. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey…Dean…,” he trailed off, waiting for either Dean or the angel to explain something.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and mentally prepared himself for this conversation.
“You’re gonna wanna sit on the couch while I explain this.”
 3

“So, let me get this straight,” Sam started, seated on the couch, elbows on his knees as he
held his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. “Castiel has no memory prior to this at
all.”

Dean looked over to Cas, and saw him staring at the floor in front of Sam, as if he wished for
it to swallow him up whole. Sadly, he nodded his head in confirmation.

Sam sighed again, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back into the couch. “So,
you’re just gonna keep him here with you, Dean?”

Dean shrugged. “What else you think we should do with him? I mean, it’s not like there’s a
shelter for stray angels around.”

Dean laughed at his own joke, looking at at least Cas to laugh too, but the angel simply
glanced up at him with a confused look. Dean let his sad chuckle die out as he cleared his
throat.

“Well, what else do you propose I do with him, Sammy? Last time I checked, angels didn’t
even exist!”

“We do exist,” Castiel finally pepped up. “I thought I informed you that I am an angel, Dean.
Did you forget?”

Giving Cas a small smile, Dean responded. “No, Cas, I didn’t forget. I was talking about
before you did a triple lindy through my bedroom window.”

Cas nodded, looking away as if he understood. Then, Dean watched curiously as he frowned
his eyebrows and screwed his face tight in thought. His hands clenched into fists and despite
his wings being folded tight behind him, Dean could see the feathers start to become more
ruffled. “But…but your prayers.”
“My what?” Dean asked a little too quickly and probably a bit too snappy as well, instantly
flinching at the aggression in his tone.

Cas shook his head, as if clearing it. “Nothing, I must be mistaken.”

Then, Cas looked at Sam with his piercing blue gaze. Dean, amused, watched as Sam shifted
uncomfortably under it.

“I apologize for threatening you earlier, as I was unaware of your relations to your brother
before.”

Sam let out a breathy laugh. “No, no it’s no worries, trust me. I’m just trying to process all of
this, wow.”

“I know, it’s pretty fuckin’ crazy,” Dean laughed, looking at Cas who just shot him a glare.
He cleared his throat before continuing. “Anyway, we were gonna try and grab something to
eat, you wanna come, Sammy?”

Sam shrugged, his shoulders brushing against his long flippy hair. “Sure, I’m down for that.
Do…do you eat, though, Castiel?”

Cas shrugged. “Not usually, but I’d like to try.”

“What about the diner down on the corner?” Sam suggested, leaving Dean to throw his head
back in frustration. “What?! I thought you loved that place.”

“I do! But they always screw up their take out orders,” Dean complained as Sam stood up
and stretched.
“Take out? Let’s just eat in, isn’t that what we always do?”

“Dean thought it might be best we take the food back here, I believe he’s trying to avoid any
embarrassment I might bring him,” Castiel cut in, sounding rather dejected.

Dean sputtered. “E-embarrassment? What, no!”

“Dean, it’s alright, I understand that you wouldn’t want-”

“I just didn’t want to overstimulate you with everything-”

“Alright!” Sam announced loudly, cutting both his brother and the angel off in their rush of
excuses. “Well, then, where else should we go, Dean? Somewhere with good take out,
because I also forgot how attention grabbing walking around with wings might be.”

Dean sighed, walking over to the table by the front door to pick up the Impala keys. “He can
make ‘em go away. Angel magic or whatever. Let’s just go eat there, okay, I’m hungry.”

Castiel seemed to light up, his wings even lifted higher as his mood seemed to. He gave Dean
a small smile, and Dean had to force himself to look away from him so his face wouldn’t
burn.

They all loaded into the car. Sammy took shotgun, as he always did. And despite Sam always
being the one who took the front seat, Dean found himself somewhat wishing the angel took
it instead. Rather, Cas sat in the backseat, making his wings vanish so he looked rather small
back there. Dean glanced at him through the rearview, their eyes connecting for only a
second. As soon as Dean let his eyes fall into Cas’s, though, he had to tear them away,
shivering at their intensity. He opted to distract himself with starting the car and backing out
of his spot.

The whole ride was spent by Cas basically interviewing Sam. Dean didn’t blame him,
though. Castiel didn’t know Sammy yet, and deserved to get the chance to get to. Sam was
telling him all about his education and law school, and Dean surely was not getting jealous
over how invested Castiel seemed to be in the story. Dean could feel himself getting more
and more sour as the angel and his brother started to get along so swimmingly.

“That all sounds very intense, Sam. You should be rather proud of yourself,” Cas
complimented, and it felt like Cas took that kitchen knife and slammed it into Dean’s
stomach. Discontentment bubbled inside Dean’s chest.

Sammy, of course the sweetheart he is, blushed and sputtered. “Well-well yeah, thank you. It
is a lot of work, but I’m excited to finally put all of it to use once I’m finished with law
school and get past the bar exam.”

“Ooh, yeah, you’re so smart, Sammy,” Dean said in a mocking tone, meant to be simple
teasing, but was laced with his jealous bitterness. He chanced a look in the rearview as he
took the turn into the diner parking lot. Cas was smiling at Dean in the mirror, and it was a
full on smile too, teeth and everything. Dean wanted to melt into his seat at the sight of it, but
he forced himself to stay solid as he forced his concentration on parking the car.

“Nice and mature, Dean, well said,” Sam piped up, the wise ass he is.

Dean sneered. “I’d like to say I’m pretty mature, yeah.”

“I’d beg to differ, actually,” Castiel said smoothly, earning a sputter from Dean. “I rather
enjoy it, though.”

“Good save,” Dean said as he threw the car in park and turned around to smile at Cas.

“It’s very endearing,” Castiel added, tone serious and warm.

Dean instantly froze at the addition, unprepared with how to respond further. Instead, he let
his focus slip slightly, and his cheeks ignited in pink. He turned back to the front of the car,
quickly, before Cas would notice, but the angel seemed happy enough that his compliment hit
home.

“Aw, Dean, you’re endearing,” Sammy sang back, using a similar tone to the one Dean used
to mock him.

Dean pouted as the three of them walked into the classic looking diner. It was one of those
50’s themed ones, so you knew it had to be good. It was one that Sam and Dean constantly
visited, so much so that they were probably labeled as regulars. Dean went into the booth
first, expecting Sam to follow him in. He tried to look calm, though, as Sam slid into the
opposite side. Castiel didn’t even take a second to ponder it, he simply slid in alongside
Dean. Dean cleared his throat, fiddling with his hands that rested on top of the table as Cas
pulled himself in a little too close to Dean. Not that he didn’t like it, though, Dean was just
afraid he liked it too much. He looked up at Sam, cringing when he noticed his brother giving
him a sly look. Dean blew air out of his mouth loudly, snatching up a menu from the stack of
them placed at the head of the table where the condiments were.

“So, what are you thinking, Cas? Is there anything you’ve always wanted to try?” Dean
asked, laying the menu out on the table for Cas to look at as well.

Castiel leaned forward and to the left, very much into Dean’s personal space. His shoulder
pressed into Dean’s as well as his thigh underneath the table. “I’m not sure, what do you
usually like here, Dean?”

“Uh, well…” Dean started, trying to get control of himself once again. “The burgers are
pretty good.”

Sammy chose this time to start bursting out in laughter. “‘Pretty good’? Dean, you’d make
love to one of these burgers if you could.”

Castiel shot Dean a shocked look at that. The warmth of his shoulder against Dean’s leaving
as he jerked back slightly in surprise.
“Oh, come on, it’s just an expression, I’m not going to actually fuck the sandwich,” Dean
said with a wave of his hand. “They are really fucking good, though, but you should get
whatever you want, Cas.”

Castiel kept his eyes on Dean’s, keeping them wide and calm, just like his expression, as he
nodded in understanding. Meanwhile, Dean was trying to keep himself looking normal and
not like some nervous, skittish highschooler that he felt like for some reason whenever he
looked at Cas. Cas looked back down at the menu, scanning the items over.

The waitress came over, a rather attractive dark looking woman much to Dean’s liking, well
usually. As much as he was typically tempted to flirt with their table’s given waitress, Dean
felt like his game was somewhat off today. So, instead, he chose to keep his eyes above her
neck this time as he ordered his usual bacon burger after Sam ordered some sort of salad he
always liked to get.

“And for you, hon?” the waitress asked Castiel next.

“I’ll just have what he is getting,” Cas answered simply, pointing to Dean.

Dean looked up at Sam, who was also giving him the same surprised look back.

“You sure that’s what you want, Cas?” Dean asked, folding the menu and putting it away.

Cas nodded up at Dean with a cute smile.

As they waited for their food to come, the three of them discussed Castiel’s situation more.
Sam tried to ask Castiel to try and remember anything again. Anything they could use to help
him get back to heaven or to at least figure out what happened to him. The well was still dry,
though, sadly, and Cas couldn’t recall a single thing. Sam started to become increasingly
concerned about the issues in heaven, but that wasn’t going to help them. Dean figured it
hadn’t bothered them down on earth for this long, so why should it be a concern at that
moment. And he meant it just like that, saying it straight to Sammy. First, their main concern
should be to help Castiel try to remember something, anything. They shouldn’t worry
themselves about something they know nothing about.
Sam seemed to begrudgingly agree just as their food appeared. Dean tried not to moan into
his burger as he bit into it. He usually always did, having such an intimate relationship with
food as he did. This time though, he tried to keep it to himself, especially as he was trying to
gauge Castiel's reaction to the burger at the same time. Cas bit into it, chewing and pondering
it in his mouth for a minute before swallowing.

“Well, what do you think?” Sam asked as he forked his stupid salad.

“It’s rather…interesting,” Cas said. “Practically no nutrients whatsoever, but actually quite
tasty. It’s pretty good.”

Dean dropped his burger to throw his hands into the air. “He likes it!” He looked back down
at Cas, lowering his arms and feeling his chest jump when he saw the angel gazing at him
with a smirk.

“I will say, Cas, though, the salad definitely has nutrients and probably will taste just as
good,” Sam said, stabbing a piece of grilled chicken that accompanied the dish.

Castiel hummed at that, taking another bite of his burger. His hum sounded more
contemplative than agreeable, though, as he chewed and swallowed to speak again. “It
definitely has more nutrients in it, but again not much. Especially with all of that dressing and
processing chemicals. And all of those toppings.”

Sam frowned down at his salad in disappointment, seeming like he wanted to have a stern
talk with it afterwards. Dean burst out laughing.

“Slam that salad, Cas, yes,” Dean chuckled, even raising his hand for a high five.

He realized that Castiel didn’t know what that meant, though, only after he put his hand up.
And before he could put it back down, Cas reached up and grabbed it. Dean’s smile vanished
into a look of shock as Cas even intertwined their fingers.
He seemed content to just sit there and hold Dean’s hand above the table as he turned back to
Sam to respond. “I would never slam your meal, though, Sam. I’m not sure why Dean wants
me to throw your food.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to burst into laughter. This made Castiel even more confused.

“Well, first of all, Cas, let go of my hand, that’s not what that was for,” Dean said in a rush, as
he tried to dislodge his hand but remained unsuccessful. Castiel really was a strong fucker,
keeping an almost iron grip on Dean’s hand. Seeming hesitant, Cas did let it go thankfully.
“That was supposed to be a high five.”

“High five?”

Dean raised his hand once again but had to grab onto Castiel’s wrist when he went to grab it
again like he did before. When he did, he shook Cas’s hand until his fingers splayed out
more. He used his grip on Castiel’s wrist in order to bring his hand into his own, making
them slap together. When he let go, Cas still kept his hand in the air, eyes wide in surprise at
the action.

“See, high five. People do that when…well I guess when something cool happens, or to
something they like,” Dean added.

“Here, give me one, Cas,” Sam said smiling as he raised his own hand. Castiel high fived it,
though rather loudly, as a few patrons in the diner with them looked up.

He had a bright smile on his face when he turned back to Dean, and there was no possible
way Dean could stay mad after seeing that. He was rather salty after Sam called Cas Dean’s
nickname, but decided to let the jealousy dissipate as he gave Castiel another proper high
five.

“I like this a lot,” Cas said with a laugh, finally putting his hand down so they could finish
their food.
“And second,” Dean said over a mouthful of burger, continuing from where he left off. “Not
everything’s meant to be taken so literally. “Slam” is something people say sometimes to
insult something, or disrespect it. “Burn” is another good one. You burned Sam and his salad
pretty good.”

“But…I didn’t mean to insult Sam and his salad…I just wanted to share the facts-”

“Exactly!” Dean interrupted. “And by doing so, you slammed that salad, so good job, buddy.”

Dean patted a disgruntled Castiel on the back, and Sam shook his head in shame. Not too
long after, they were able to finish their food and make their way back to the apartment. Dean
collapsed on the couch with a loud sigh, reaching for the television remote. Cas decided to
settle right next to Dean, and right as he did, Sam came out of nowhere and snatched the
remote out of his hand.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Sam exclaimed and suddenly snatched the remote
out of Dean’s hand.

“What does it look like?! I was about to watch some tv, on my television by the way, so if
you don’t mind,” Dean said as he tried to reach over for it from where he was plopped on the
cushions.

Sam made sure to take a step back though, holding the remote away from his brother. “No,
you and I are going to try and figure out this angel situation.”

Dean sputtered as Cas’s eyes widened at realizing he was the source of the brother’s tussle.

“And what exactly is there to figure out? The guy can’t remember a thing, and as far as I’ve
noticed, it isn’t like we can just hop in the Impala and just take the closest freeway to
heaven,” Dean argued, staring up at his brother with a stubborn look.
“I can still fly there, I’m sure,” Cas mumbled, making the brother’s gaze snap over to him. “I
just don’t remember why I was leaving…”

Dean’s eyebrows shot so far up they nearly flew off his forehead. “Leaving?”

Cas just looked at him quizzically, tilting his head at Dean.

“You said you were just falling before, now you just said leaving?”

Now it was Cas’s turn to almost lose his eyebrows, as he looked at Dean in shock. “You’re
right, I didn’t say that before.” Then, Cas looked down into his lap, clenching his fists into his
trench coat as he stared hard at it. “I was leaving…I had to leave heaven because…
because…”

He closed his eyes tight, as if trying to wrack his brain for some sort of answer. It looked like
it hurt.

“Alright, just don’t give yourself a hemorrhoid trying to remember, okay?” Dean said,
subconsciously placing a light hand overtop of one of Castiel’s. The angel didn’t seem to
mind, though. He stopped his harsh concentration instantly, and looked down at their hands in
surprise. Dean snapped out of his haze and patted Cas’s hand a couple times before removing
it. Cas seemed to deflate at that. “But at least you’re remembering something!”

Cas did perk up at Dean’s point, nodding. “I guess I am, though I can’t seem to make myself
remember.”

“You’re probably just gonna have to give it some time,” Sam said softly, a reassuring smile
on his face. “It seems like it should slowly come back to you.”

“Exactly, plenty of time for some tv,” Dean said, leaning forward again to snatch the remote
from Sam. Sammy reluctantly allowed Dean to yank the remote out of his grip, though, and
let out a sigh.
“Alright, in that case,” Sammy started and Dean took that as his cue to cut in.

“You leavin’?!” Dean exclaimed suddenly, making Castiel actually jump slightly. “Already?”

“I got that project, Dean, I gotta get that in by midnight,” Sam practically groaned. “Plus,
there isn’t much to do to help here, I guess. We just gotta wait it out and see what happens.”

“It’ll come back to him, I’m sure,” Dean said, turning to Cas with a wide smile.

The angel only looked back at him, expression blank, but his eyes wide. He looked rather
anxious, and it stirred Dean the wrong way to see him like that.

“Alright, in the meantime, let me know if you guys need anything,” Sam said, grabbing his
keys and making sure he had everything. “I can be back tomorrow, but not until later, after
my classes.”

“Sounds good,” Dean sang, barely giving Sam a second thought as he kicked his shoes off
and propped his socked feet onto the coffee table.

Sam sighed. “Goodbye, Cas, I’ll see you tomorrow and hopefully we’ll figure this out.”

Castiel nodded, smiling warmly at Sam. “Thank you, Sam.”

 4
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

And with that, Sammy was gone, and Cas and Dean were just left to themselves. Dean had
already flicked the tv on, seeming almost enraptured with the cop show that happened to pop
on screen. It didn’t last very long, however, as his thoughts slowly drifted back to Castiel.
Dean glanced at him in the corner of his eye, and saw the angel engrossed in the show as
well.

“So, I bet you don’t have tv in heaven, huh?” Dean asked, nudging Cas with his elbow.

“No, no we definitely do not,” Cas said, eyes never leaving the screen. “This woman was
operating her motor vehicle whilst intoxicated? Doesn’t she know that’s extremely
dangerous?”

Dean looked back up at the tv which was showing body cam footage of an officer pulling
over a drunk driver. “This is dumb, you wanna watch something else?”

Castiel's gaze finally broke from the television to look at Dean as if he just said something
crazy like he ate puppies or something. “What else is there?”

Unable to fight off a stupid grin from spilling onto his face, Dean chuckled and started
searching through the guide. He settled on something simple that wouldn’t overwhelm Cas
too much, afraid that jumping into some random show with an intense plot would just
confuse Cas. So, Dean spotted the baking channel and figured that would be good enough.
Castiel was just as enraptured in this as he was in the cop show, probably this one more so
actually. He let the angel enjoy the show for a few minutes, actually watching a bit of it
himself, but there was something on his mind that he needed to address.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean started, trying not to melt when the angel ripped his attention from the
show to give it all to Dean.
“Yes, Dean.”

Dean swallowed thickly. “I wanted to ask you, when Sam first came here, you said something
about my prayers? What did you…mean by that?”

Castiel looked away from Dean, eyes trailing around the room as if he’d find the answer
somewhere in the floorboards. He took a minute to think, and Dean could tell he was just
trying to get his thoughts in order. He couldn’t imagine what the poor guy was going through,
trying desperately to remember something, anything and then trying to make some sort of
sense out of it.

“I…I’m just trying to make sense of what’s coming back to me…” Castiel started, and Dean
worked hard to keep his patience and let Castiel choose his words carefully and say what he
needed to. “I’m getting…fragments, small pieces here and there, and they don’t make much
sense.”

“It’s like only having a few pieces to a giant puzzle, I imagine,” Dean offered, feeling all too
giddy when Castiel nodded his head sternly.

“Exactly, and I have fragments…of you praying to me,” Castiel said softly, and Dean felt a
strange pit in his stomach.

“Praying?” He laughed, letting it fade out when he realized Cas didn’t think it was as
ridiculous as he did. “Wait, actually?”

Cas nodded. Then, he closed his eyes in concentration. “I remember your voice…you prayed
to me…and I’d…wait for them. I was so…excited…happy when you did.”

Dean felt his face flush, grateful Cas’s eyes were still closed in thought. He tried to clear his
throat, but it just sounded like a nervous choke. “I-I prayed to you?”
Castiel let out a small chuckle, a content smile growing on his face, yet his blue eyes
remained shut. He spoke slowly, as if he were recalling the memory as he spoke. “Yes, you
did. I remember, I can remember one of them. You thanked me for Sam, you had just spent
the day at a creek behind one of the motels. You watched over Sam…while he was catching
frogs. You thanked me for…some moment of peace for you and your brother.”

Dean’s face was on fire by now. And Castiel suddenly opened his eyes to look at Dean.
Flustered, Dean shook himself and attempted to cool down his blush as he could feel Cas
examining him.

“I-I have absolutely no idea,” Dean laughed breathlessly, even waving his hands to try and
further his point.

Cas just continued to peer at Dean, and it made Dean feel even more uncomfortable. It finally
snapped him to clear his head of his flustering and to finally try and remember something
himself.

“You really don’t remember anything, Dean? Nothing from when you were younger?” Castiel
asked, his voice soft but stern, pushing for some sort of answer.

The thing was, Dean did actually remember something. He remembered praying to…
something? But he wasn’t sure to what exactly. He’s tried so hard over the years to suppress
any type of childhood memories he had, anything that was too painful.

“I mean, I think so? I just…I don’t think I had any idea it was to you,” Dean settled on,
feeling like he wanted to vomit suddenly. “I don’t really remember it, I don’t usually like to
remember those days, ya know?”

Dean tried to end with a sad chuckle, but Cas didn’t seem to buy it. Instead, he gave Dean a
sad look before looking back at the television. “I wish I could remember more…”

Dean hummed, raising his hand, but hesitating at first. After a few seconds of debate, he
finally settled it on Castiel’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb in small circles. “You will, you
already are.”
Cas looked like he wanted to say something more but remained quiet as he watched the
baking contestants scramble before time ran out on screen. They continued to watch
television for the rest of the day, or try to watch it at least. Castiel had a million and one
questions, but Dean didn’t mind answering them, actually enjoying joking around and talking
with Cas. He heated up some leftovers for dinner, not wanting to leave the comfort of their
spots on the couch now, and soon it was getting late. Very late. And despite wanting to stay
up all night with Cas, Dean yawned loudly, and decided it was time that he should hit the hay.
Castiel questioned that saying, too, and Dean laughed again, for what felt like the thousandth
time that night before explaining to him that he was not actually going to go to his room and
punch hay bales, but he was in fact going to bed.

~<>~

The smell of the smoke was pouring into Sam and Dean’s room as they crouched near their
door, listening frantically to horrid screams from the other side. Dean pounded on the door,
screaming for…someone. He wasn’t quite sure who at the time. He was only a kid, barely 13.
All he could process was the overwhelming panic and fear that was taking over his mind.
Sammy was crying next to him, silent and probably too shocked to speak.

Dean gathered what he could of his wits, and grabbed a small blanket from one of their beds.
Their door knob was way too hot for them to grab on, so he had to cover it with the blanket to
open it. He went to turn the knob, and shove the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. He
slammed into it this time, but there was debris or something blocking the way. They were
trapped.

Dean pounded on the door, hearing his mother’s screams echoing throughout the house. Dean
can remember her screaming that she was in pain, that her skin was melting off, that she just
needed someone to help her. His stomach twisted sickly as he listened to her cry again and
again for help. She screamed in excruciating pain, and it killed Dean to hear it. The screams
seemed to burn into his brain, her voice coarse and not at all her normally sweet tone. She
sounded possessed in a way, probably delirious with pain. Dean remembered screaming to
her, screaming that he wanted to get to her, that he just had to get out of the room, but he was
trapped. His mother was slowly being consumed by flames, and Dean, despite being only one
door away, could do nothing to stop it. He screamed for his dad, for anyone, but all he could
do was stand there and listen to his mother slowly die.
It felt like hours before his mother’s screams suddenly quieted down. They grew more and
more muddled, and before Dean knew it, he couldn’t hear her anymore. He remembers
screaming even more then, banging his now bruised fists into the door, desperate to budge it
even an inch. Just as he thought he might make some progress, though, the ceiling cracked.
Dean’s eyes snapped from that blasted door up to the ceiling above them. There was a large
crack in the center where the ceiling was starting to concave, and Dean knew they had to
move, or they wouldn’t survive. They’d be pinned just like their mother and would burn to
death as well.

Dean looked over to the apartment window across the room. This wasn’t the fire escape side,
though, and they were 15 stories up, at least. There was no way either of them would make it
if they took their chances jumping. Gazing out of the window, he could have sworn that he
saw a sort of blue light right outside, but then, the ceiling cracked again, and Dean snapped
his focus back to their situation. Dean looked back at the door, hearing his mother’s screams
echoing in his mind. He wasn’t sure what to do. He felt panic overwhelming his chest, but he
knew he had to keep some sort of exposure, for Sammy’s sake. He had to at least survive this.
At least Sammy if no one else.

He remembered telling Sammy they were going to make it out. Even though Dean barely
believed it then, he turned back to the door. Trying to wield as much strength as he could,
with a running start, he took one more jump at it, and the door finally gave out. It cracked
under Dean’s weight and bent in the middle, almost folding in half. Dean stepped back and
stared at it for a second, not fully convinced that he alone could do that.

That was only for a second, though, before Dean rushed into action. He grabbed Sammy by
the arm rather roughly, and yanked them into the hallway. Dean made sure to keep his brother
close to him, pressed to his front as he tried to protect him most from the flames. They were
completely surrounded, and Dean just scooped his brother up into his arms and began to dash
for the front door as the ceiling let out a dangerous moan. Dean felt himself getting burned in
several places, but he didn’t care. He eventually got to the front door, only to find it
completely blocked by debris.

Looking around frantically, Dean spotted the spare room’s door wide open, displaying the
wide open window to the fire escape and a room barely touched by the flames. Just as Dean
was about to bolt for it, he looked up and saw the ceiling giving in. Flames started to peak out
from the crack above them, entering from the floor above. Without much thought, Dean used
all of his strength to run a few steps and launch Sammy out of his arms and into the spare
room. Just as he did, Sam landed to safety as the ceiling in the hallway gave out.
Dean landed on his stomach, but his legs were pinned by the debris. A large beam sat on his
calves, keeping him firmly in place. Dean cried out in pain, feeling a burning sensation
covering his feet and legs. It was the most indescribable pain Dean had ever felt. He
screamed and cried out, hands scrambling on the hard wood to try and pull himself out from
underneath it, but he was trapped. Looking up, he saw Sammy kneeling in front of him, a
horrified expression on his face.

He remembers screaming at Sammy to run. That there was no saving him. He was trapped,
and Sammy had to save himself. He remembers the ceiling in the spare room cracking then,
too. His screams became more delirious, yelling at Sam to leave him, even cursing at him.
The ceiling cracked again, and Dean shoved at Sam’s hand as it tried to reach for the burning
beam that covered Dean. Dean screamed at him again, shoving him to the window, and
watching as his brother sobbed but still listened. Just as he disappeared out of the window,
the ceiling gave one final groan, as if that were its last warning before it was going to
collapse.

Dean sobbed, putting his face into the floor, covering the top of his head. He cried out for
someone, anyone to save him. He was sure he was calling to his father, who was supposed to
be working late that night, but at this point, his cry for help was to anyone.

Just as the ceiling started to fully collapse, Dean prepared for his demise…only it never
came.

Slowly, Dean opened his eyes, and was still assaulted by smoke and flames. His legs still felt
pinned, and body still burned, but his upper half wasn’t crushed.

Very carefully, Dean looked up. Above him stood another boy, probably his own age, though
he towered over Dean. What looked like dark wings were sprouting out of his back, covering
them both from the fallen debris. All Dean could make out of the boy, though, were bright
glowing blue eyes. They scanned over the room, over the debris surrounding them that Dean
guessed was probably what used to be the spare room ceiling. He had the most intense blue
eyes Dean had ever seen. They suddenly snapped down to peer at Dean. Time seemed to
freeze then, and Dean felt hypnotized by those eyes. He felt complete fear as he looked up
into them, his mind totally blank at trying to decipher what was even going on.

Then, the boy bent down, his face was shadowed, though, and Dean could barely make out
his face. The pain started to come back to Dean, as the adrenaline started to fade. Dean
grimaced and sobbed again, ducking his head in pain. It was beginning to feel so intense that
Dean didn’t even register the hand that was placed on his left shoulder. The boy gripped it
tight, and suddenly, the only pain Dean could feel was a burning in that shoulder. He cried
out just as the grip on his shoulder began to pull him out from under the debris. It happened
so fast, though, and soon Dean was pulled to stand, pressed into the other boy’s chest. The
grip on his shoulder remained but didn’t burn too much anymore.

Dean then realized that he no longer felt any of the burns on him. Everything felt pretty fine.
He looked up in shock and was met with those blue eyes. They stared right back at him, cold
and calculating. Dean felt the panic and fear in his chest start to break down. A rush of
coolness overcame Dean as he stared up at the other boy…or whatever he was. For some
reason, despite being surrounded by fire and horror, Dean couldn’t help but feel okay. Dean
did his best to keep the gaze, but suddenly, his head felt like it was rushing. He grimaced and
broke away from the eyes to hold his head for a moment.

When he looked up though, he was outside, standing at the bottom of the fire escape. He was
alone, but totally unscathed. There wasn’t a single burn or scratch on him. And the calmness
that suddenly overcame Dean before was still fresh in his mind, still overpowering his panic.
That boy was gone, though, nowhere to be seen.

Dean’s head snapped over to one of the dumpsters in the alley at the sound of sudden
sobbing. Running over, he knelt down to scoop his brother into a hug, proving to his brother
that he had just survived the absolute impossible.

~<>~

Dean woke up with a start. He shot up in bed, flinging a few drops of sweat onto the floor as
he did so. He looked around frantically, and was relieved to find no fire, no screaming, and
no blue eyes. Rubbing at his forehead, he tried to collect himself from the nightmare. It didn’t
happen often, and never normally that vivid, but Dean had constant nightmares about that
night.

The memories from it constantly haunted him, especially at night. The same pain, horror, and
confusion still beat at that blocked door in his mind. No matter how hard they try to come
back to him, though, Dean has always done whatever he could to suppress them. There was
no way he could make sense of what had happened. And remembering those screams, the
pain of losing his own mother, the pain of being slowly burned and crushed, it was all too
much for Dean. So instead, he chose to ignore, to suppress, to beat those memories down so
far, they’d never bother him again.

He and Sammy never spoke of the incident, only telling the officers they were able to escape
through the fire escape. Which was true, except Dean wasn’t too sure he was supposed to
make it. He had no idea how or why he survived, and whatever that creature-boy was, Dean
didn’t want to know. It must’ve been some sort of hallucination or something.

One thing Dean could never explain, though, was the one mark that he got from that night.
Not a single burn or scratch was on him, except a single human hand print. On his left
shoulder, where he was certain the boy had grabbed him in order to pull him out from under
the debris, was the red/pink mark of a burn, in the exact shape of a hand print.

Sammy had always told him an angel saved him, or something supernatural. Dean denied it
everytime, though, saying the burn shape was just coincidental. He kept it hidden from his
father, too, unsure how to even address it. So, Dean just made sure to never expose it in
public or around others. When other girls would ask when Dean brought them to bed, he
simply called it a strange birthmark, or would make up a story of some silly accident. He
never told anyone the whole story, not even Sam, claiming to not remember a thing. He did
remember, though. He remembered those blue eyes, those intense eyes. But even Dean
himself denied to himself that he remembered. Suppress suppress suppress.

Dean saw that it was just after 6 in the morning when he had finished clearing his head from
the nightmare, convincing himself it was all just a made up figment of his imagination. With
a groan, he shifted to the edge of his bed. He got up and dressed himself for the day, knowing
he wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. He went to the bathroom and took care of
his morning needs, freshening up and going back to his bedroom. Outside, the sun was just
beginning to rise, casting the world in a soft glow, making it appear like outside was just
waking up as well.

As Dean wondered what Castiel had been doing that night, he opened the door to find the
angel standing right outside of it. His nose was barely an inch from Dean’s when Dean
yelped and shot back a few feet in surprise. Cas’s face remained stone solid, though, stuck in
a wildly determined expression.

“Geez, Cas! You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” Dean yelled, clutching his chest. He
chuckled, but it soon died out as he looked up at Cas.
The angel looked troubled…no…overwhelmed?

“Cas? Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean asked, suddenly slightly concerned.

Cas kept his eyes downcast, fists balled up tight at his sides as he chewed his lip. “I…I’m
remembering,” he said softly.

Dean smiled widely. “You remember? That’s great! What did you remember?”

Castiel remained quiet then, eyes searching the floor. His chest seemed to heave slightly
heavier breaths, and Dean could tell he was struggling. Gently, he took Cas’s hand in his
own, and pulled them over to the couch. They sat down, and Dean just waited. He knew Cas
just needed some time. He was preparing for some angel war story or for some crazy drama
that happened in heaven. But, what Cas said next, shocked Dean completely.

“You…I remember you, Dean…”

Cas looked up, and Dean’s gaze was locked with his. He couldn’t look away, and all Dean
could see was blue. At first, he jolted, afraid of it, but Cas kept his grip tight on Dean’s hands.
Dean’s eyes searched Cas’s, mind racing with the memories from his dream last night. Blue
blue blue. It was the same blue. The same one that saved him that night. Cas saved him.
Castiel was the angel that saved Dean.

Dean sharply inhaled as Cas let go of one of his hands in order to raise his own slightly.
Slowly, as if to show Dean what he was trying to do before doing it, Castiel reached to lay his
hand over Dean’s left shoulder. It stung, tingled even, as Cas’s hand lay over the scar, the scar
that he had made.

“It was you…?” Dean said, voice barely a whisper.

Cas stayed quiet, offering Dean a small nod before speaking, “Your dream…last night, I…I
saw it too. I didn’t want to…pry but they just seemed to help trigger my memories.”

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. Cas had seen his dream, his nightmare, his memory.

“I saw it…and I remembered. I remember I saw that building on fire, and so many families
were trapped, so many weren’t able to make it out. Gabriel, my brother, had brought me
down to earth. It was one of my first visits, of very few. I fled from him, to try and help. I
wanted to try and save someone…” Cas’s voice was tight with emotion, but he kept his eyes
on Dean’s. “I-I flew into the fire..and I found you…you and Sam.”

Dean’s heart ached.

“You were so brave…you saved your own brother and sacrificed yourself. I,” Cas paused mid
sentence, trying to collect his emotions. “I was just a fledgling at the time…I could barely fly
on my own, but I had to at least try to save you.”

Cas’s fingers brushed over the mark on Dean’s shoulder. Carefully, as if waiting for Dean to
stop him, Castiel pushed back the sleeve on Dean’s t-shirt. There, the handprint stood,
seeming to have grown along with Dean, now just as big as Cas’s adult hand. It tingled when
Castiel brushed against it, but not in a painful way, just in a way Dean’s never felt before. He
let Castiel lay his bare hand over it, letting it line up perfectly with his own.

“I hadn’t meant to mark you so, I was just so focused on saving you,” Cas whispered, regret
and guilt prominent in his voice.

“You were the one that night…you were the one who saved us,” Dean whispered back, his
hand holding Cas’s tightly now. “You…you were the one I prayed to…”

Cas nodded, a sad smile on his face as he let go of Dean’s hand, much to Dean’s dismay.
Though, he brought it up gently to cup Dean’s face.
“I…I prayed to you all the time after you saved us. I…I thought you were some type of
angel, or something, but I didn’t care. I just…wanted to thank you. I wanted to…talk to you,”
Dean said, leaning into the touch against his cheek. His cheek, which started to glow pink
thinking back to every prayer he had said. Some being just ridiculous rants about Sam or his
father.

“And I heard all of them…I remember all of them now, Dean, even your most ridiculous
ones,” Castiel said with a soft smile and a chuckle, as if able to read Dean’s mind. “And I
promised to myself that I'd see you again. Because I remembered every single one of them.
And I’d wait for them…for years…but then they stopped.”

Cas finally broke eye contact to duck his head in sadness.

Dean had stopped praying to his “guardian angel” once he realized just how ridiculous it was.
As the memory of the fire faded more and more as Dean did his best to suppress it, he had
forgotten just how influential that moment had been. He had practically buried the memory of
his encounter. Once he realized how impossible it was, that angels could never exist, once he
realized that he needed to lock that night out of his head, he stopped praying. Dean had
blocked out Castiel.

Dean opened his mouth to object, so try and deny that he felt that way anymore, but Castiel
spoke again.

“Then, there was a fight in heaven…a fight over the absence of God. So many angels were
fighting, they were all divided.” Emotions clogged in Castiel’s throat as he spoke, voice low
and tense. “So many died…so many were slaughtered…and so many fell…I remember, I…I
was trying to flee…”

“You flew right into my window…” Dean finished, his hands now back to holding Cas’s
own. The angel’s hands were shaking, but gripped onto Dean’s as if they were his life line.

Castiel looked back up then, his eyes watery and tears streaming down them. He kept his
voice steady, despite the emotion that was pouring out of him. He shook his head at Dean’s
statement. “I ran…and I looked for you. I…my soul subconsciously sought you out. I
knew…I knew I had to come to you, Dean. And…and I found you.”
 Cas chuckled, his laugh sounding sad, but full of relief. Castiel had been looking for Dean.
This whole time Dean was pushing Cas out, yet the angel had been waiting for him.

The two looked at each other for a moment, Dean mesmerized by blue and Cas swirling in
green. One of Cas’s hands came up again to cup Dean’s cheek, and Dean slid his free hand
around Cas’s middle. Speechlessly, they came closer together, pressing their foreheads
together.

“You did find me,” Dean said, voice and resilience breaking all at once with overwhelming
emotion.

They stayed like that a moment longer, just holding each other for what felt like the first time
in forever. Castiel was the one who pushed forward first. He leaned forward into Dean, and
Dean let him lightly press his lips to Dean’s. It was shy at first, Cas seeming unsure about it,
but then Dean finally snapped into action. He used his grip on Cas to pull him closer,
deepening the kiss between them. It felt like electricity shot through Dean, shooting through
his body and igniting his shoulder. Castiel kept a hand there, as if reminding Dean of his
mark. Dean groaned lightly, moving his hand from Cas’s back to the back of his head, pulling
Cas even further into him. Dean caught Cas’s bottom lip in his teeth, heart skipping a beat
when the angel sighed into him.

When they finally broke apart, each was breathless. Dean kept his hand behind Cas’s head to
hold their foreheads together, as if he didn’t want to be physically apart from Cas any
longer.

Chapter End Notes

🤷
Hope you enjoyed the cheese and fluff :) may make a continuation with the war in
heaven plot or whatever I started going on about there but who knows
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!