venatoris | generic inbox;

[ STOP BEING AWED— actually, hold on.

still red-faced, castiel loosens his shoulders, letting his wings peek from behind his body. at the same time, he takes a step toward dean. ]

Maybe we should leave.

So you can get a closer look at them elsewhere.

[ so they aren't cut short. ]

Yeah, I. They're really cool, man.

[ Broken or not, they're friggin' angel wings and he's just a puny little human, what does anyone expect from him? ]

Good idea - lets get the hell outta here. My clothes are in a bag in the closet, boots should be there too.

[ he tucks his wings back in before moving to the closet to grab dean's things while dean calls his brother, and then it's just a matter of slipping out unnoticed. castiel follows dean's lead on that, and then once they've both safely made it to the parking lot, guides him to where he parked the continental.

it's a big car, with his wings manifested, he still can't sit in the front seat. he has a moment of waffling indecision before he turns and hands the keys to dean— remembering almost belatedly that he's fully healed and, as such, can drive perfectly fine. ]

I'll have to get in the back.

[ Not the first time he's escaped a hospital, but it is the first time he's had to do it with an angel whose wings are out on display for God and everyone to see. They only run into one person and Dean hurriedly explains it's cosplay from a book and it was done to cheer someone up but now they have to go because visiting hours are over. Or something. He hustles Cas along and they slip out through the back, Dean following closely after until they get to Cas' crappy car. ]

Close call. [ He takes the keys and glances around nodding, gesturing urgently. ]

Let's go. We'll figure something out on the way. Motel?

[ the entire time dean is explaining, castiel is trying his best to look natural, which means he ends up looking incredibly awkward instead, but it works out in the end because they escape with no one any the wiser. back in the car, however, his problem isn't anywhere close to being solved.

he's sitting rather miserably in the back seat, hunched over so his wings have room to fit beneath the roof of the car. ]

A motel would be fine.

Are they stuck out like that?

[ It's wild to look in the rearview and see an angel with wings taking up the entire backseat. ]

Does it hurt?

[ He backs the car out, turns to get them the hell out of the parking lot and towards the open road. No one is really gonna care too much that Dean's vanished, except maybe the billing department. It's not like they can hold someone against their will unless they're a danger to themselves or society, and Dean keeps his ideation in check around doctors. ]

[ dean's also now fully healed from a shattered bone that should have taken months of recuperation— if it ever fully healed at all. they'd have a hard time proving it wasn't a case of mistaken identity if they ever caught up with him.

but they won't. ]

It doesn't hurt. But yes, it seems I can't put them away.

[ his only hypothesis is that the influx of power from touching dean's soul caused them to reflexively materialize, though it doesn't explain why it hasn't happened before now. perhaps it's because his grip on his powers isn't as absolute, with this borrowed grace?

either way, it's going to be a problem. he can't use dean's excuses for everything, and he obviously can't fly anymore ]

... Maybe it's only temporary.

[ Dean's too damn good to ever let someone like that get the jump on him. ]

Probably. Has this ever happened before? [ He glances in the mirror as he hits the highway, blinker clicking to merge. ] Think it's cause you touched my soul, Roma Downey?

I don't know who that is.

[ a pause. ]

It could be that. Muscle memory, maybe. Or something like it.

Touched by an Angel. Doesn't matter.

[ Anyway - ]

Yeah, could be. [ a pause. ] Hey, do you think if you kept it up, your wings would work again?

Um.

[ he doesn't dare hope. but he can't bring himself to shut dean down, either. he peers back over his shoulder, where his wings are folded, only really half-present. the burn damage isn't as obvious as it once was, since most of the damaged feathers have fallen out. but they haven't been replaced by anything either, least not as far as he can tell.

but it isn't exactly easy for him to get a close look. ]

Even if it's possible, it would probably take months for the feathers to regrow.

But it'd be worth it, right? No reason we can't try.

[ Just gotta give Dean breaks, right? Not like Cas can constantly have a hand in his chest. ]

What's a few months to an angel anyway?

[ it's not much time to an angel at all, but he's living on earth, so that's something they have to take into consideration. ]

I wouldn't be able to go out in public.

Aaaaagain, isn't it worth it?

[ What's a few months in the grand scheme of things? ]

Dean, I... wouldn't be able to help you while I'm undergoing this process.

[ on hunts, or with anything else dean's currently concerned himself with. also, ]

Where would I stay?

Cas, you being able to fly again kinda trumps helping me out. I've hunted a long time, man. I think I can keep it up a little longer while you heal up.

[ This feels important. ]

The bunker. Duh.

[ he wants to argue— it's his instinct to protest. dean may not need help on hunts, but there are still a few stragglers roaming around after the fall, and it's his responsibility to help on angel-related business. and there are other things lurking out there, bigger than the normal hunt. crowley's demons, of course.

but dean also makes a good point. he can't deny that. ]

Um.

[ he's glad he's in the back seat, so dean can't see the hope— and fear— on his face. ]

Are you... sure?

[ There's always gonna be demons, there's always gonna be hunts. There's always gonna be monsters. Life has always been a risk in Dean's world - his broken ankle is a perfect example. ]

Course I'm sure. The place is huge, there's plenty of room for you. [ Cas deserves to come home now. Sam is healed, though he's understandably pissed and was taking some time from his brother until the idiot broke his ankle in three places.

Now that he's healed though, he can resume his Deancation, and go about his business while he gets over himself. ]

[ castiel is just relieved that he still had any access to his powers at all— what if he had been human when it happened? what if he hadn't been able to help dean, or not learned about his injury until months later? but he can't let himself think too much. it's in the past now— the road he's on, he can't turn back from. ]

Well... If there's room. And if you don't mind.

[ he pauses, lifting his head up again to look at dean from over his shoulder. ]

I have to warn you...

[ aaand he trails off. ]

I don't mind.

[ He's turned his eyes back to the road for the time being, checking for signs, looking for the typical shoddy little motel they usually stay in. People don't ask questions at places like that. ]

Mmm? Warn me about what?

Well.

[ oh boy. ]

If this works, I'm likely to molt. The feathers will make quite a mess.

[ He isn't able to hide the snort. ]

So you really will be like Tweety Bird, huh?

What.

[ damn it, dean. ]

Does this Tweety Bird molt excessively?

[ He chuckles, shakes his head. ]

Nevermind. We'll take care of you, okay Cas? I'll, uh - google how to take care of a bird.

I'm not a bird.

[ >8[ ]

But, I, uh... I appreciate the sentiment.

[ how can he not? ]

I just hope it isn't too much work.

[ molting is a strenuous process for a bird, but for an angel? it's not usually done. it's something that only happens when one's wings are injured considerably, but in most cases there are only two options: the angel has strength enough to regrow the damage without need of a molt, or, well.

they die.

but maybe the spell that metatron used was exact for a reason. he tries not to think about that. ]

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