Oneshots Part One

Frozen Wings (Destiel)

Cas' heart seamed to flutter in his chest. His body felt frozen, his bones chilled. He knew, deep down, that it was probably enough. That he was going to get sick. That he might even die.

He didn't have much of an immune system. Pneumonia, even, but he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't deprive himself of that magical snow. He loved it.

He knew Dean was worried. He had a look about him, eyes narrowed and lips flattened against each other. Despite what he let the Winchesters think, he wasn't stupid. He knew what was happening.

He may have been new to being human, but it didn't necessarily mean that he didn't know what he was doing. He had studied the humans for millenia, sneaking away from his older brothers and sisters constantly to observe them from Heaven.

He smiled at those memories. Hester had always said that the humans were evil. That the humans would be the end of themselves. That they would battle and fight and hate until they destroyed the world that their father had worked so hard to create.

When he was chosen by Zachariah to retrieve the righteous man from damnation, he had admired the brothers' loyalty towards one another, but he knew that it would be their ending.

But he never knew it would end like this.

If Cas still had his halo, he'd do everything he had put off when he was able. He'd watch The Grand Canyon erode into it's current state, he'd watch humanity die out and see stars explode into writhing black holes.

He'd fall in love with someone who wanted him.

He looked at Dean now, and blinked almost furiously. Emotions were still such a new concept to the human. Dean stared back at him sternly, eyes strong and gaze unforgiving. He'd never be enough for the hunter- not anymore.

Not when he was a weak and tired human. Not when the stolen body of a dead man was now fragile and soft. Dean could never want him.

Emotions used to be beneath him, and now they controlled his every move.

He stood up, snow crumbling into the indent where he used to be, and brushed off his trousers- soaked through.

Dean jerked his head to the side, signalling for Cas to start walking, and the ex-angel pouted. He didn't want to leave, but he knew the boys were growing impatient. "Come on," he urged and Cas nodded reluctantly and started walking. He could have sworn he felt the slightest brush of a hand over his- but he must have been mistaken.

He felt Dean's presence near him and it was simultaneously blissful and no where near enough. He wondered how he could feel completed and craving at the exact same time. Humanity confused him.

Dean had probably never seen Cas look so happy. So completely blissed out and shining. If he had his halo- it would be glimmering through his skin, it would be glowing in his eyes and radiating in his bright smile. If he still had it.

Dean couldn't believe how much his angel was shaking, how much he shivered and trembled. That he was blue and pale and ice cold. That his fingertips were red and numbed. All further evidence of his fragile humanity. He felt as if he needed to protect him.

He sighed and Dean's eyes snapped to his. "What's wrong?" he asked, almost immediately.
"Absolutely nothing," he smiled, content, "I just didn't want today to end".
"Come on, birthday boy," Dean smiled at him and pressed his hand into the small of his back- ushering him forward. Cas dragged his feet, wanting to push back against his hand.

'Birthday boy'. What a joke. One year since he had fallen. One year since his wings were ripped from him. One year since his world was destroyed. He'd planned on spending the day in at home, in his room, strategically drinking until he couldn't even remember where he was. Sam had been the one to deem it his 'birthday' and conveniently suggest they go out to celebrate. Although Dean had been the one to notice Castiel's sombre mood.