Holy Vision

Chapter 4

Just then Sam rushed through the door, startling both boys who were mere inches from each other's faces. Cas quickly stood and returned to his spot on Dean's bed while Dean embarrassingly resumed his watch out the window.

"Guys!" Sam shouted as if they all weren't in the same motel room.

"Did you find anything useful on the victims?" Cas asked quietly.

"Unfortunately no. But I just got a call from the sheriff who got a call from another sheriff. Apparently this other sheriff from uh...Mankato called to ask if he had any leads or other info because the same thing just happened. A gas station on the outskirts of town. Seven dead, and he mentioned a couple of burns in the ground that he thought looked like wings," Sam rushed.

Dean snapped his head back toward Sam. "Are you sayin' whoever ganked the three stooges moved on over to Minnesota and did the exact same thing?" Sam nodded vigorously. "Well I'd say we could head on over but I'd like some food and a night's sleep. Burgers?" he asked hopefully.

"Fine. There's a place up the street and we'll stay the night. I'm waking you up early though." Dean shrugged and heard shuffling on the other side of the room. He looked to Cas who was pacing the ground, his wings were dragging across the floor and his feathers frazzled out as if he were distressed. Sam followed Dean's gaze. "You okay Cas?"

Cas stopped for a brief moment to look at the two boys before continuing his pacing. His wings were twitching in agitation and continuously drooping against the floor. His feathers no longer looked as silken as they had before. They seemed more rough and bristled. Dean thought that if he could run a hand over them he'd get pricked. "You two go ahead and eat. I should be back later but don't wait for me in the morning."

"Cas..," Dean began but stopped as he watched his wings rise and stretch as far as they could before swiftly flapping down. The angel was gone. Dean stared in wonder at the empty ground. The motion was so quick all he'd seen was black before nothing stood there anymore.

"I sure hope he's okay," Sam said worriedly, "I wonder where he went."

"Who cares, I'm starving." Although Dean did care. He didn't stop thinking about it on the ride to the restaurant and all through dinner. He'd give Sam short replies and mostly didn't listen to a word he was saying. Dean wasn't interested. He wanted to know where Cas went and why he left so fast. More importantly, why was he so disheveled before he left? Dean couldn't take his mind off the angel's wings and how they reacted and moved. It was like dealing with a bipolar teenager who won't talk to her parents about her problems. You just have to wonder and hope they're okay.

Then Dean thought about the seconds before Sam busted into the room. How Cas' wings seemed to shudder in nervousness and feathers rustling in anticipation. He remembered staring into his heavenly blue eyes, not understanding the hidden wantful look in them. The moment when his wings hovered closer to Dean, reaching out and almost hesitantly wrapping around the area behind him before drawing closer. He remembered feeling his breath hitch as Cas' wings drew so close that the dreamy warmth once again coursed through him and made his body numb. Their faces were inches apart and Dean could've sworn Cas could hear his heart hammering in his chest. He watched Cas' eyes flutter and knew his own gaze flicked down to those soft plush lips he suddenly wanted to feel. He could almost feel Cas' breath ghosting over his face before the door slammed open and it was all over. Dean knew his wings drew back and stiffened in embarrassment before he abruptly left the table.

"Dude," Sam said, breaking Dean from his reminiscence. "You're sweating and you've been staring at that pie instead of eating it for the past ten minutes. You feeling okay?"

Dean looked at his brother confused before he realized where his head had been, and Chuck was he sweating. He wiped his forehead quickly and picked up his fork. "Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking about the case and where Cas rushed off to in a hurry."

Sam shrugged as he watched his brother quite literally inhale his pie. "That's unhealthy," he mumbled with a disgusted face.

"Shut up," Dean replied while shoving the last bit in his mouth.

Back at the motel, Dean decided he would shower before climbing into bed. He let the warm water hit his face and run freely down his body. He closed his eyes and tried to think of any one he could that'd want to hurt Cas. He soon realized most of the angles he knew (which wasn't a lot by Heaven's standards) were all pretty much dead. He turned his body so the water now hit the back of his head and flowed down the drain. He stared at his feet for a while before his thoughts began roaming. They roamed to the place they'd been roaming to for most of the day. Cas. And his wings. Dean closed his eyes and let his thoughts breathe.

He went back to the first moment he laid eyes on that angel today. The way his eyes raked over his feet until he met the trench coat, then the soft smile, his lively and lavish blue eyes, and finally that unruly sex mop he called hair. Then his eyes met those wings. Those damn beautiful wings. Reaching almost taller than Sam and pulled close to his sides until they shuddered from Dean's gaze. The black beauties that entrapped any lookers and froze any person on the spot from pure awe. The way they practically shone in the sunlight and probably twinkled in the moonlight. The power they held over Dean and his emotions. He couldn't help but remember the way Cas' feathers would react to the call of his name (or maybe it was just Dean's voice) and the simplest of touches.

Dean almost thought about touching himself before his eyes flew open and he immediately vacated the shower. He quickly wrapped a towel around himself and ran a hand through his sopping hair multiple times. He mentally yelled at himself for even thinking of Cas that way or of any man in that case. He dried his face slowly and roughly with a towel and stared at himself in the mirror. He felt disgusting, albeit just taking a shower, and noticed the gruff sadness littering his features. His eyes weren't as bright as they'd previously been and his mouth was set in a slight frown. It's the disappointment, he thought.

He dried himself off completely and threw on something he thought was clean-ish before exiting the bathroom. He could here his brother quietly snoring and smiled softly to himself. He sat on the edge of his bed and completely by habit put the glasses on for one last sweep. He glanced briefly outside and around the room, purely to make sure nothing 'supernatural' was about. Content with his nightly rounds, he stepped toward his bed but stopped abruptly when something caught his eye.

Barely hidden underneath the bed was a small dark object that seemed to softly shimmer in the sliver of moonlight that crept through the motel curtains. He bent down beside the bed and reached out to grab it. He gasped quietly as his finger brushed the softest material he'd ever laid his hands on. Immediately he knew what the object was. "Cas ," he whispered. He slowly picked up the feather and twirled it between his fingers.

He returned the glasses to the nightstand, still holding the feather. When he looked down he realized he couldn't see it anymore, but felt it clear as day. He climbed into bed, clutching the feather tightly to his chest, and fell into the best night's sleep he'd ever had.