Flight

Chapter 1

The first thing Castiel felt was pain. An intense, shooting pain that started at the crown of his head and spread all the way through his body. Then he felt the wetness splattered across his face, presumably blood.

Instinctively, he flexed his wings. Big mistake. Searing pain rocketed into the joint of Castiel's left wing, hitting him like a punch to the gut. There had never been pain like this before.

Castiel pried open his eyes, only to see his vision slightly restricted by blotchy redness covering his eye. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel could see he was lying in the grass in the backyard of a nice suburban home. It was about dawn, and the residents would see him shortly.

Castiel closed his eyes and waited for the morning to come.

~

It seemed like an eternity before Castiel felt strong hands lift around his waist, sending another wave of pain through his body. The arms carried him inside and laid him on a bed, then immediately started attending to his wounds.

Castiel's eyes flicked open as soon as the hands touched his wings. The first things he saw were eyes. Intense green eyes, no color that Castiel had ever seen before. A face slowly came into focus, and it was smiling.

A young man stood over him, bandaging his wounds. "Hello," he said, handing Castiel a cup of water. "How are you feeling?" Castiel couldn't muster the energy to even say something, much less lift the cup, so the man tipped the cool water into his mouth for him. "You were really a mess back there. If I had gotten to you any sooner, you might not be alive right now."

Slowly, more and more of the man came into focus. Strong hands, a muscular body dressed in plaid. Then, a large pair of fluttering wings. They were a metallic black, and they seemed to shine with their darkness.

"I see you looking at my wings, you know." He said gently. He picked up a roll of gauze and lifted his right wing. "You've got some pretty nice wings yourself. Hold on, this is going to hurt." Castiel gasped and closed his eyes as The man suddenly jerked his right wing.

Surprisingly, after the rush of pain, his wing felt much better. "Your wing joint was dislocated. No flying for a while, okay?" Castiel flushed and kept his eyes closed. The man wrapped his wing in gauze, then left the room.

No flying. Sounded so easy for him, but it was painful for him to see the man talk about flying so casually. Castiel opened his eyes and waited for the man to come back.

~

Thankfully, Castiel was facing an open window. By the time the sun was up, the man had come back to check on Castiel. By this time, Castiel could sit up without too much pain.

The man handed him another cup of water and sat down on the bed. "Are you feeling better?" Castiel nodded and the man smiled. "So. Want to explain why you turned up bloody in the middle of my backyard?" Castiel shook his head no. "Well, my name's Dean Winchester. Since I have no idea where you came from, I guess you'll be staying with us for a while."

   Castiel gave the man, Dean, a look that said, "us?" "Me and my little brother, Sammy. He's at school right now, but I called him and told him that you were here."

   Castiel shifted on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. He absentmindedly moved his wing, but the sudden rush of pain made his hurt wing quickly extend, knocking a lamp off the table. Castiel flushed and pulled his wing back in, turning away from Dean.

   "It's okay. I'll clean it up. I know the struggle," Dean said. "Just take care here, and when you can, I'll be making breakfast." Dean pulled the bedsheets over Castiel, and the forlorn angel gazed out the window as Dean left.

~

   By the afternoon, the torturous scent of food had yet again drifted into Castiel's room. This time, he was bound and determined to get up. After all, he was hungry. Presumably, he hadn't eaten in a few days. Castiel hauled himself up, ignoring the numbing pain that traveled through his body.

   There was a large mirror in the room, and in the reflection, Castiel could see how badly he had been hurt. His face was covered in bruises, and there was a large cut stretching from his left eyebrow to his chin.

   Castiel limped towards the smell, and came upon Dean over the stove humming a song to himself. Castiel sighed loudly, and Dean turned around with a smile.

   "Hello!" He said cheerfully. "I see you're out and about. I've made some burgers. Do you like burgers?" Castiel sat down and smiled, still not talking to Dean.

   Dean set down a burger and a glass of water in front of him, taking one for himself as well. "How're you feeling?" He asked, taking a bite of the burger. Castiel didn't reply. "You know, you're welcome to stay here with me and Sammy as long as you want."

   Castiel tried to say thank you, he really tried. But the words wouldn't come out. His vocal chords worked just fine, he could tell, but he just wasn't ready to speak yet.

   "I have an idea," Dean said, pulling out a pad of paper. "Here, write your name on this."

   Castiel scribbled his name on the paper, giving it back to Dean. "Castiel Novak, huh?" He said. "Can I call you Cas? Castiel is a bit of a mouthful."

   Castiel nodded, and Dean smiled. "All right then, Cas. Have you got a home?"

   Dean picked up the paper with Castiel's answer. "Not anymore," he looked at Castiel, as if looking for clarification. "Well, you are always welcome to stay here as long as you want."

   Castiel smiled at Dean, and Dean smiled back. It was possible that for the first time in his life, he had found a safe haven free from judgement, free from injustice. Now he just had to figure out if Dean could fly.