53. Chapter 53

Dean woke to find himself back in his bed, with the soothing sound of his mobile’s song playing somewhere above him. For a moment he wasn’t sure had woken him, but all too quickly he realized that he was hot. He squirmed out from underneath the covers, pushing them aside until his body was exposed to the cooler air of the room. The fact that he was dressed only in a diaper (dry and not messy this time, thank you) and a t-shirt helped, but he couldn’t fall back asleep. He was too awake now.

“I’m still tired,” he complained to his fox, but she just looked back at him with her round blue eyes and offered no words of wisdom. Not that she could since she was a stuffed animal, but sometimes it was nice to let his imagination have its way and believe that she could.

He rolled out of bed and to his feet, then staggered as a feeling of dizziness swept over him. He braced himself against the bed, waiting until it passed. He wouldn’t have been able to say that he felt well, exactly. His head was kind of fuzzy and he was still overly warm, but in that way that seemed skin-deep. And the dizziness didn’t go away, though it did lessen and he was able to cautiously straighten up.

Movement across the room caught his attention. Dean turned his head and froze at the sight of a shadowed reflection in the mirror, one that had an extra set of limbs. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that it was his own reflection he was staring at, and he suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen his wings yet. Supposedly the bare monstrosities he’d seen before were gone, and he actually had feathers now.

He shuffled over to the wall and turned the light on. It was very bright, but Dean was too curious to care. He moved back to the mirror, pointedly ignoring how stupid the diaper looked, and just focused on the wings. They weren’t as big as he was expecting, though the feathers did go a long way in making them more attractive. The feathers themselves were somewhere between red and brown, with a hint of gold at the base. Copper, maybe?

It wasn’t a bad color, he guessed. A little brighter than he would’ve liked. This color wouldn’t be helpful for hunting, and for that reason he’d hoped for a color like dark green or navy. But then again, it was sounding more and more like Dean wouldn’t be hunting for a while if Castiel had anything to say about it. Probably by the time he did get to hunt, Castiel would teach him how to hide his wings.

What he noticed the most was that the wings didn’t really look real. Oh, the feathers were too detailed to be fake, but his brain didn’t want to accept them. That was the problem. His brain was telling him that they didn’t really belong to him, like they were a costume piece he’d slipped on. Yet when he rolled his shoulder experimentally, the wing twitched with him and he could feel how the new bones and muscles were moving. The dichotomy between what his brain and body were telling him was nauseating and he squeezed his eyes shut, dizzy.

“I think that’s enough of that,” Castiel said, and Dean jumped as his daddy picked him up, letting Dean hide his face in Castiel’s shoulder. Some hunter he was. He hadn’t even realized Castiel was watching him, and had no idea how long Castiel had been there.

“I feel dizzy,” he mumbled.

“You’ll get used to having your wings, Dean. You just need to give it time," Castiel murmured, one strong hand settling on Dean's back, between his wings.

"Don't like them," Dean said. It wasn't really the truth - he wasn't sure how he felt about the wings yet, except that he was really glad that they were no longer ugly fleshy lumps - but it felt good to say anyway.

"I think you'll learn to like them. You didn't like it when I first started hunting with you and Sam, but you got used to that and now we're a family." Castiel kissed the side of his head. "Change takes time to get used to, little one, but I promise that if you give it some time, you'll learn to love your wings. Just think of how jealous Sam's going to be when he sees them."

Castiel had a point. Sam was going to be green with envy. The thought was a little comforting, even though Dean felt selfish just for thinking it. "Don't wanna show him yet."

"Oh, baby, don't worry about it. It's going to be a few days before you feel like leaving the nest."

Of course, that just made Dean feel contrary. Suddenly, leaving the house sounded like the best thing ever. He pushed at Castiel's shoulders until he could lean back a bit and look Castiel in the face. "Outside?" he asked plaintively. "Can I see the sun?"

"Why don't we get you changed first, and then we can see," Castiel said, already turning to face the changing table. Dean hadn't even realized that he'd wet himself sometime in the past twenty minutes since waking, but sure enough his diaper was wet when Castiel removed it. He frowned, not sure how to feel about that. It seemed to be happening more and more.

The sound of voices drew his attention away from the diaper change; he knew Gabriel's voice immediately, of course, but it sounded like Gabriel was speaking to someone. Dean listened hard as Castiel wiped him down. It was the sound of laughter that did it, and he squirmed a little as he recognized Balthazar's voice. It felt like it had been a long time since he'd seen anyone but Castiel and Gabriel. He still maintained that he didn't like Balthazar that much - the guy had the tendency to be a dick, just not as much of a dick as the rest of the angels - but it would be nice to see someone else.

Castiel smiled at him as he taped the diaper into place. "There you go, baby. Come here." He lifted Dean up and carried him out of the room, down the hall and into the living room.

"Hey kiddo!" Gabriel said, throwing his arms open wide. Dean wiggled until Castiel set him down and then dashed across the room, throwing himself into Gabriel's arms. Gabriel hugged him tightly, even wrapping his wings around Dean's body, something that only Castiel had done up until now. And Dean was quickly discovering that there was nothing quite like being wrapped up in an angel's wings: there were just no words to describe how soft, yet strong, they were, and it made Dean feel very little and very safe every time.

"Hello, Dean," Balthazar said. "I see your feathers have grown in. They're very pretty."

Dean peeked up at him, surprised by the compliment. "I like your wings today too," he said shyly. Balthazar's wings were yellow today.

"Thank you. I'm pleased that least you have taste."

"All I said was that the color is a little bright," Castiel said, rolling his eyes.

Balthazar just sniffed at him. "You're just not adventurous enough, Cassie."

"Yes, that's what it is," Castiel said dryly.

"Stop bickering, you two. I want to give Dean-o his gift," said Gabriel.

Gift? That caught Dean's attention immediately. He slid his fingers into his mouth and peered up at Gabriel. There was a huge grin on Gabriel's face, which probably meant something really good or really bad was about to happen. With Gabriel, you never knew which one it was until it was too late. But Castiel didn't look too worried. Actually, his daddy was smiling too. So that meant something good, right? Unless it was the kind of "good" like his wings growing in, which Dean didn't really count as good. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Gabriel laughed, apparently knowing where his thoughts had gone. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I promise you're going to like this gift very much. Balthazar picked it up for me." He reached down and plucked a red box off the floor, gently setting it on Dean's lap. "It's tradition for hatchlings and nestlings to get a present when their wings come out."

Dean looked down at the box, speechless. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a present that wasn't booze or porn magazines. Castiel had bought him all kinds of toys and stuff, but none of those had been wrapped up in a pretty box like whatever this was. He was sure that he'd gotten presents at Christmas or his birthday when his mom was alive, but he couldn't remember back that far. Any gifts from his father when he was a kid had usually been hunting gear of some kind. Bobby had never been big on gifts, and Sam usually stuck to the aforementioned porn or alcohol. For a moment, he wasn't even sure that he wanted to open it.

"Go ahead, Dean," Gabriel said gently, putting a hand on Dean's head. "It's okay. Open it. I want you to."

He couldn't ignore that, could he? Slowly, Dean reached out and took the top off the box. Something dark moved inside the confines of the box and he froze. He couldn't be seeing what he thought he was seeing. But then a little head rose and big blue eyes were staring up at Dean. A tiny mouth yawned, revealing white teeth and a tongue that was just as pink as its nose and the inside of its ears. The kitten squinted its blue eyes and started to purr, as though the sight of Dean was pleasing enough that it had to make its opinion known.

"A kitten?" Dean whispered around his fingers, shocked to his core.

"Yep. I thought you might like to have a pet."

A pet. The word was pretty much foreign to Dean. John had made it very clear from a young age that pets weren't going to happen because their life on the road wasn't conducive to animals: most motels didn't allow them, John wouldn't allow fur in the Impala, and sometimes they barely had the money to keep Dean and Sam fed, never mind a pet. That rule had actually prompted one of the biggest fights ever between Sam and John the day that Sam found a puppy he wanted to keep. And who could forget that time Sam run away from home and adopted a dog of his own? Dean sure couldn't.

"They're dirty," Dean said, the only thing he could think of to say. His heart was pounding. "And I'm 'lergic."

"Hatchlings don't have allergies," Castiel said, moving across the room until he was standing in front of them. He knelt in front of Dean and reached into the box, lifting out the kitten. Gabriel removed the box, leaving space for Castiel to set the kitten on Dean's lap. "It's okay, little one. Uncle Gabriel bought this kitten with my permission. I'm not going to take her away."

"Her?"

Gabriel grinned. "That's right. Her." He gently nudged the kitten with his finger. She whipped her head around and snapped at his finger, though her teeth and claws wouldn't have been strong enough to hurt a human, much less an angel.

Her. Dean had a kitten that was a girl. Wonderingly, half-afraid the kitten might be snatched away after all, he lightly touched her fur. She sniffed his hand and then purred again, rubbing her face against his palm. Very carefully, Dean scratched her head. He smiled when she started purring even louder. He didn't have much experience with cats. Sam had always been obsessed with dogs. But Dean was deeply, painfully relieved that Gabriel had not brought home a puppy. Ever since his encounter with the hell hounds, Dean couldn't stand to be around dogs. He'd never told anyone about it, but even just the sound of a dog howling or barking sent chills down his spine and immediately transported him back to that horrible day. The first time he'd encountered a big, growling dog after hell, it had sent him into a panic attack.

"What are you going to name her?" Balthazar asked. Dean looked up at him, surprised to see that Balthazar was actually smiling at him.

"I... I dunno," he said, confused. He'd never named anything before. Back when they were kids, Sam used to have a name for every toy that the two of them owned. But it was Sam who would name them, not Dean. He could vividly remember finding a stuffed lion in the garbage can on his way home from school once. He'd spent the whole walk trying to figure out what a good name would be, only to walk into the motel room and have the lion immediately be stolen by Sam - the toddler had been going through a phase where he thought everything belonged to him, and he had named the toy. Dean had sort of given up after then. It just didn't seem worth the battle.

"Well, you can think about it," Balthazar said, exchanging a look with Castiel. "She doesn't need a name right away. If I recall correctly, it took Gabriel at least a week to deliver your daddy's name."

"That was thousands of years ago, and I was a little busy," Gabriel huffed. "Time to let it go."

Dean carefully petted the kitten's fur again as light-hearted squabbling broke out over his head. Castiel touched his knee and smiled at him, and Dean couldn't help smiling back.