It's been 10 years since Cas died, but then came back. He's stuck by Dean's side until his death, but afterwards- things got much harder. The young pastel with bright eyes had faded away, now he was a cold punk hunter.
*I'd Recommend Not Reading Wit...
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I groaned and opened my eyes. I was curled into Dean's side. God, I missed this idiot. He snored softly and I couldn't help but look at his toned body. He was muscular, stronger than me, a result of years of fighting. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes fluttered open.
"Hi Cas..." He mumbled, hugging me closer. I smiled, for the first time in over ten years.
"Good morning, Dean." I leaned my head against his chest and he kissed the top of my head. The door to my room squeaked open and Sam stuck his head in. His eyes went wide, but he still stepped inside.
He blinked a couple of times and glanced away. "U-um, I'm gonna pretend that I don't see you two laying naked together and, uh... We have a mission. Um... A shape-shifter out in Maine. About two days to drive."
"Cool, I'll be out in a few minutes. Get Baby loaded, will ya?" Dean asked, rubbing his face and rolling over onto his back. Sam nodded and left. Dean got up and crawled off the bed. I sighed and sat up.
"Well, last night was fun." I said as Dean gathered his clothes and got dressed.
He nodded. "We should do it again sometime."
"Yeah, uh, guess I'll see you in a week or two. Enjoy your mission, skin-walkers are always fun."
Dean chuckled. "You're coming with us."
"W-what?" I exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow.
"Do you not want to go?"
"No! I want to go! But... Man, thirteen years and now this?"
"I'd say it's just like old times, but you never hunted. It was always me, Sam, and Dad."
"It's the new times. A new generation." I replied, getting up. I grabbed some clothes from the closet and threw them on, then tossed my trench coat over it. My wings hung lowly at my sides, Dean glanced at them and then turned away. "It's okay to stare, Dean. I know they look so different."
He sighed and looked back. "Wh-what happened to them?"
"A lot. They're stained with blood, and from the countless fights I've been, they're ripped to bits."
"And the black feathers?"
I paused, my breath hitched in my throat. "When an angel breaks down-- when their soul is crushed and they give up-- their feathers turn black. Even if they rise again, it's permanent."
A tear rolled down Deans cheek. I stepped up to him and wiped it away, kissing his chin. He smiled and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again and looked at the door. "We need to get moving."
"Yes, we do. I'll grab my bags."
"Don't worry, we've got plenty of weapons."
"Okay well I need clothes, too. And I have an arsenal of my own, one that I like to use."
