1. Chapter 1

Dean's life right at that moment was comprised of his baby and the open road. With the windows rolled down and the music cranked up about as loud as it would go, he and the Impala were eating up the miles at a pace that would've gotten him pulled over had there been a police car around. Fortunately, it had been at least fifteen minutes since Dean had seen another car, never mind a cop.

Considering that the Apocalypse was behind them and the world had come through mostly intact, Dean should have been happy. Lucifer and Michael were locked back in the box, Castiel and Gabriel were upstairs doing damage control, there were fewer demons to worry about, and - most importantly - no more sons of bitches trying to get him and Sam to say yes. For once, Dean could sit back and focus on saving people and hunting things the way that they used to.

Life was pretty much perfect.

Except for one little snag.

Not for the first time since Dean had gotten the call from Bobby about a possible haunting in Idaho, he risked taking his eyes off the road to steal a quick glance at the passenger's seat. Just long enough to confirm that yup, it was still empty: Sam hadn't changed his mind about heading back to Stanford and somehow teleported his way into the car when Dean wasn't looking. And after two months, with Sam's glowing report still ringing in his ears, it was probably time to stop hoping.

Dean let out a sigh and leaned his head against his hand, trying to let the pounding music and the whipping wind chase the thoughts of his brother out of his head. He registered, but didn't really react to, the faint sound of wings until a hand reached out and switched the music off. In the ringing silence, Dean frowned at the road and bitchily wondered whether he should get around to angel proofing the Impala.

"I thought I told you not to touch the radio," he muttered.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, and then he added, "I needed to talk to you, and you won't be able to hear otherwise."

"Don't tell me heaven's gotten up in arms about Michael after all."

"No. Surprisingly, the other angels have taken the news calmly."

"I bet your upgrade and Gabriel hanging around probably helps." Dean smirked at the expression on Castiel's face. Yeah, that's what he thought. Help was definitely a relative term when it came to Gabriel, as in sometimes you seriously wondered whether his help was worth the trouble of having him around.

"It has taken both of us," Castiel allowed.

"I'm a little surprised he didn't take off."

"Gabriel, much as he would never be willing to admit it, has missed our home. I believe he is enjoying it no matter how loudly he complains. Raphael has taken over much of the busy work, which helps."

Dean shrugged a little, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. "That's good, Cas. I'm glad to hear it."

They drove in silence for another few minutes, though Dean could feel those otherworldly blue eyes staring at him. Once upon a time, that probably would have bothered him. But he'd had a lot of practice getting used to that penetrating stare, and - if you got him drunk enough - he might even admit that he was a little glad to feel it again.

After the ground closed up and it became obvious that Michael and Lucifer were no longer going to be a problem, Castiel and Gabriel hung around just long enough to offer up some healing free of charge before they returned to heaven. There had been very little communication from the two of them since then, and honestly Dean had reached the point where he figured that was how it was going to be from now on. Some angels interacted quite a bit with Earth, but others not so much.

He, Bobby and Sam had picked themselves up and gone back to Bobby's house for all of three days before Sam announced he wanted to go back to Stanford. One of the hardest things that Dean had ever had to do was not beg his brother to stay. Sam had watched him like he was expecting that, watched him the whole time he packed, and when Dean sent him off at the bus station with a manly hug and no sign of any protests, the blinding smile Sam gave him was worth the hole he chewed in his cheek to keep quiet.

After that it was just him and Bobby, but it only took a day or two before Dean realized he was putting a cramp in Bobby's style. He only had to walk into the kitchen once and witnessed the way Bobby and Jody practically levitated away from each other before he hit the road.

That left him here, on the way to yet another hunt while blue eyes tried to stare into his soul. Or maybe they were. With an angel, you just never knew. Dean was content to wait it out, because having another person in the Impala with him - even if that person didn't exactly breathe - was kind of nice.

"I need to speak with you," Castiel said finally.

"So talk. As long as it doesn't involve stopping another apocalypse." Dean tried to make it sound like a joke, like his heart didn't start thudding triple time at the thought, but he wasn't sure how well he succeeded.

"No. I want you to become my nestling."

Dean slammed on the brakes. It was a damn good thing the road was otherwise empty, because the Impala skidded wildly at the sudden stop and the screeching of brakes and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. As the car came to a stop, Dean jerked the wheel and let it coast onto the dirt on the side of the road. He sat there for a minute, breathing hard and hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

"You what?" he asked flatly, not daring to look at the angel.

"I want you to become my nestling. It is a process through which -"

"Fuck, I know what it does," Dean barked, finally prying his hands off the wheel. He turned the car off automatically.

Angels had been known to humans - even the ones who were in the dark about the rest of the supernatural - for a while now, ever since God had decided that he was going to take off. And that was only because dear old daddy had decided to do one last favor before he skipped town, which was to insure that angels would never die out. After all, without God no new angels could be created the old way. Whether or not that was actually a good thing, well, it depended on who you asked.

The new way involved an angel taking a consenting human as their child and feeding them grace over the course of an unspecified amount of years, until the human's - now nestling, in technical terms - soul had changed enough to be able to produce a modified form of grace. Nestlings were not nearly as strong as an actual angel, but were nevertheless head and shoulders above your average joe.

It was a process that didn't exactly sit right with a hell of a lot of hunters, Dean included. But angels were hard to kill (see: holy oil that initially only Castiel had access to and angel blades that had to be stolen from an existing angel) and there was that key note about consent, and over time the situation had boiled down into one of those blurry lines that no one looked at too closely.

Dean mulled all of this over in the span of a few seconds. What he knew about nestlings had come from John's journal and Bobby's books and what he'd heard from the occasional hunter. He'd seen nestlings before, everyone had, because angels with nestlings tended to remain on Earth until the nestling was old enough to ascend to heaven. And that took a really long time.

His shoulders itched at the reminder of seeing adults, sometimes people older than him, dressed as and acting like children. Just because it was slowly getting more common, even to the point where some stores were starting to cater to nestlings, didn't mean that it sat right with him. It was weird.

"That's weird, man."

"Dean."

"I can't believe you just asked me that," Dean mumbled, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. Now that he was no longer focused on driving, he could feel fatigue creeping in. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. And chances were, even when he had, he hadn't slept for more than a couple of hours. He did not have the mental stability necessary to get through this conversation right now.

"It is not weird," Castiel said firmly, sounding faintly insulted. "And it would be good for you."

"Good how? So you can parade me around to heaven as the angel who finally tamed Dean Winchester?"

"Dean."

Dean lifted his head, ignoring the little burn of shame in his belly. Okay, that was a low blow. Castiel had gone out of his way to keep Dean out of the hands of Michael, even when Dean himself wanted to give up. "Look, I -"

"You need a break." Castiel cut him off. "You've been driving yourself into the ground ever since Sam left, going from one hunt to another."

"I'm a hunter, that's what we do," Dean snapped.

"If you had somewhere to go, you would be more willing to rest."

That stung more than he was willing to admit. So what if he was feeling a little adrift just because Sam and Bobby had their own lives? He scowled. "I have a place. I can go see Lisa anytime I want."

Castiel just looked at him, the son of a bitch, and Dean's scowl grew deeper. Fine, so maybe that wasn't quite true. He had thought about going to visit Lisa and maybe even staying with her for a while, but Lisa and Ben didn't have the type of lifestyle where he would be able to slip in and out without notice. Being with them would mean settling down. And while Sam was all for it, Dean couldn't imagine being happy like that. He didn't want to go there unless he was absolutely sure, and he wasn't.

As the silence dragged on, gradually becoming awkward, Castiel spoke again. This time, his voice was noticeably gentler. "Dean, you have been putting the needs of everyone else ahead of you all your life. Now that you don't have to do that anymore, you feel the need a new purpose. Please, at least think about accepting my request."

He turned his head away, staring blankly out the window. He could honestly say he had never really thought about this possibility before, even after Castiel had dragged him out of hell and he actually made the acquaintance of an angel. And now that it was being presented to him, he didn't know what to think.

"I want to take care of you, if you'll let me," Castiel added, so softly that it was barely audible.

Dean's head whipped around, but the angel was gone. He stared at the spot where Castiel had been, trying to wrap his head around the possible game changer that had just been dropped in his lap.

There was no telling how long he sat there for before his phone rang, startling him badly enough that he jumped and slammed his knees against the dash. Swearing, he groped around until he located his cell. It had slipped off the passenger seat and fallen to the floor. He jammed it to his ear and barked out a greeting.

"You sound cheerful. What, did you run into a witch on the way to Idaho?"

"No. It's nothing. I'm not even there yet." Dean exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face, blinking gritty eyes.

Bobby knew him well enough to know when something was up, unfortunately. "What's wrong, then?"

"Nothing." Dean shook his head, even though Bobby couldn't even see him. "Did you need something?"

"I just called to tell you that there was another hunter in the area who took care of that haunting, so don't worry about it. Hole up and get some rest instead."

That rang a little too close to what Castiel had said for comfort. "I'm not that tired. There must be another hunt somewhere between where I am and Idaho, right?"

Bobby sighed. "You're running yourself ragged, boy. One of these days you're gonna get yourself killed 'cause you're not taking care of yourself and your brother's not there to watch your back. You know that, right?"

"I'm fine," Dean said stubbornly, bouncing his right leg in agitation. He didn't like this insinuation that he couldn't take care of himself. He'd been doing it just fine his whole life, with or without Sam, and just because Sam was back at Stanford didn't mean he couldn't keep it up.

"Right," Bobby drawled, sounding less than convinced. "And the fact that you can't stop yawning is coincidence."

Dean froze right in the middle of a yawn.

Apparently his silence said it all, because Bobby snorted. "That's what I thought. Get some sleep, ya idjit."

Muttering about old bastards who thought they were always right, Dean hung up and threw his phone back onto the passenger's seat. He pulled back out onto the road, though he didn't turn the radio back on. He listened to the wind whistling through the open window for a couple of minutes, firmly keeping his mind away from Castiel's offer.

Five minutes later, he grabbed his phone and called Bobby back.

"What do you know about nestlings, Bobby?"

To his credit, Bobby didn't hesitate. "Not as much as I'd like to. Word is pretty scarce on the concept. I know it involves the consumption of grace, and that it can take a while depending on the person and how strong the angel is."

"How long? And what kind of abilities do the nestlings end up with?"

"I can't say I've ever got my hands on a nestling so that I could ask."

Too long to be worth Dean's while, probably. He firmly pushed aside any and all thoughts about how nice it would be if he had just a little more strength when he was hunting, especially now that he was solo. Or the ability to fly or smite something that was trying to kill him. Because he hadn't come through the apocalypse just to say yes to another angel.

He shoved the little thought that putting someone else in the driver's seat for a change would be a relief even further down, refusing to acknowledge it. He was a hunter, and he sure as hell didn't need anyone to care for him.

"Dean."

"What?"

"What's going on?"

The intention was to say nothing. Instead, Dean found himself saying, "Cas asked me if I wanted to be his nestling."

Dead silence. Dean was tempted to bang his forehead against the steering wheel for even letting those words out of his mouth. This always happened when he got tired; he was more prone to letting his big mouth run away from him and it had gotten him in trouble more than once. Now Bobby was going to think he was weird. Why hadn't he just kept quiet about it and told Castiel a firm no the next time the angel showed up?

"Look, it's not a big deal," he said quickly.

"It's not?"

"No!"

"So you're not considering saying yes."

This time the silence stretched even longer, and, even though he was still driving, Dean gave into temptation.

"Stop beating yourself up, idjit," Bobby ordered, and was it Dean's imagination or did he hear a hint of amusement in Bobby's voice?

"Call me back when you have another hunt," Dean mumbled, and then he hung up a second time.

It was a stupid idea, one of those weird angel things that Castiel sometimes didn't realize was inappropriate. So long as Dean didn't try to contact him for a few days - which would be easy, considering this was their first interaction in two months, Castiel would forget that he had even asked.