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a-nah · 10 hours ago

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It's a cold winter evening when John found Castiel. Cas-ti-el. Shield of God.

He's a small, scrawny thing. John can scruff him and dangle him in the air with one arm, space between his fingers disturbingly small. But it's not worry that runs through John's veins. He looks up at John with the prettiest blue eyes he has ever seen. Cute, even covered in blood and surrounded by bodies.

The door, which this strange boy had been guarding so fiercely, creaked open, and with twin shouts of "Dad," Sam and Dean popped out.

Relief brought him to his knees. John embraced his children. The only good things he had left on this world.

Wingbeats made the Winchesters look up at their strange savior. The boy's eyes irradiated with an unearthly light. His face turned skyward.

John raised his gun. The click of the safety going off didn't faze the boy. Not even a flinch nor downward glance.

A small hand touched his gun. Dean's expression was stony, but his eyes were pleading for John to listen first and shoot later.

Five-year-old Sammy spoke up, thumb still in his mouth. "He glowed all purty and my hurt left, mama." The scratches on his wrist from a pilgrim ghost three states over were gone. Dean rolled up his pants, skin pristine. As if the festering ghoul bite had never been there to begin with.

John took out the iron cuffs.

Castiel

Brother

Listen well, Castiel. Have you completed your assignment?

Yes. The Winchester brothers are safe.

Good. Well done.

May I return now?

...

No. You have a new mission. You will care for the Winchesters until such a time they are ready for their destinies.

Personally? But I thought that was forbidden?

Hell took their mother from them. It is only fair that Heaven fill the hole left by her absence.

...

Very well.

Good. Here are your prerogatives....

Click. Clack. The cuffs snapped on with a satisfying snap. Hazy blue eyes looked down at the cuffs and back up at John. Castiel blinked.

The kid this thing was wearing couldn't be older than sixteen. John had the sudden urge to ingest copious amounts of cheap alcohol.

"Move!" John grunted, and shoved at one shoulder. It was like shoving a wall. Thing didn't move.

Blue eyes had settled into something human passing. Head slightly tilted towards John. Big eyes, shiny, sincere.

"Hello, John." His voice was like hard whisky and grinding rocks. Maybe not sixteen, after all. "My name is Castiel."

Their motel room is a mess of glass shards and bullet holes, so John doesn't bother going back. Instead, he put Castiel in the backseat with Dean and a sawed-off.

Sam fell asleep in his lap to the sound of "Hotel California" on the way to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

"What is he?" Bobby Singer asked, crossing his arms at the strange boy John Winchester had hauled in without a word and deposited on his living room carpet. Right over where the devil's trap was.

"Found him in Virginia." John ran a hand down his face. "Or more accurately, he found us." Dean came in, carrying a soundly sleeping Sam.

Bobby side-eyed the little family. Between the harsh iron of blood and the sour scent of exhausted pup, that dead look in John's eyes and the weird kid in bloody prep school clothes and the biggest blue eyes Bobby's ever seen, the picture painted ain't pretty but it sure was a Winchester masterpiece.

At least the pups seemed unharmed.

Well, two of them anyway. New kid, if it even was a kid, was scrawny, possibly malnourished. Not a hint of fear on his face though.

Bobby grabbed the nearby flask and flung holy water at him. Didn't so much as blink. "He's immune to salt too," John grumbled.

"Silver?"

"Bullet point blank. Nothing."

“Hmm, what'd you say happened?”

“We got cornered by werewolves,” Dean spoke up. “And he just appeared.”

“Huh. Well, you kids get settled upstairs, catch some zzzs.”

Once Dean had disappeared up the stairs, still hauling little Sammy, Bobby turned to John. “You take him to the basement. I’ll get the alcohol.”

Flamethrower? Didn’t faze him. Not even a little sooty.

Acid? Bobby would have mistaken it for water if he hadn’t dissolved a whole rat in it yesterday.

John got frustrated and tried to chop his head off with a machete. The solid steel machete broke.

It was dawn by the time they gave up. “Well, we’ve tried about everything I could think of. Glowy eyes made me think he might be a pagan god but aren’t none named Castiel. How about we take a break and feed those kids of yours?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bobby noticed Castiel perk up.

He was gone in the next blink, faint sounds of feathers and wingbeats left in his wake.

Hello.

Jimmy blinked. The voice seemed to come from all around him but he couldn’t tell where ‘around’ was. His brain told him warm nothing, so he settled on that.

“Hi.”

I’m Castiel.

“I figured.”

I need your help.

“You do?” He did? Why would an angel need Jimmy’s help.

Do you know how to care for small children?

Children? “I have some idea.” Sparse instructions he could remember, times spent with the other children at church, before he presented.

I need to feed two children, ages five and nine.

“Oh, okay.” Cereal would be easiest but guilt rolled in his gut. Sugar wasn’t good for you and he didn’t want to disappoint an angel. “I guess pancakes, bacon or scrambled eggs would do?”

…

Do you know how to cook?

The angel wanted him to cook?

“Sure. With the right materials.”

Where do I get the right materials?

“The grocery store?”

Jimmy woke up in a somewhat dirty kitchen in a house overflowing with books and apparently phones, labeled, on the wall in haphazard rows, with an armful of groceries. He set the bag of the counter and started unloading. Eggs, bacon and pancake mix.

Thundering footsteps came up the stairs and a man rounded the corner. The first thing Jimmy noticed was that the man was very sweaty. His scent was so saturated in the house that Jimmy had almost missed it. Old Books and Alcohol? With an undercurrent of oil and blood. Beta. Bright red faced sharply contrasted the dark blue of his baseball cap. He looked like an everyday American redneck. Angry at the world and his place in it. Although that anger didn’t seem very generalized. In fact it seemed very pointed, at Jimmy, to be precise.

The strange man huffed and puffed like the wolf from Three Little Pigs and pulled a gun on him. It’s the first one Jimmy’s ever seen. “John!” the man yelled.

Realizing his situation, Jimmy slowly put his hands up. “Please don’t shot.” He said. The man’s eyes widened, then narrowed again, musky Beta scent flaring with surprise just the slightest bit. Was his sense of smell sharper that it should be?

“You ain’t him.” The man grunted just as another one came up behind him. Huge, handsome and clearly omega. Scent like leather and something bold and acrid. His nostrils flared as he entered the kitchen. Leather and something burning overtook old books and alcohol so fast Jimmy didn’t notice his legs give out until his knees painfully hit the floor.

And there he sat trembling up at the omega.

“It ain’t him, John.” The beta behind him said. John checked the bag Jimmy had placed on the counter. “Yeah, I got that.” He said, voice sarcastic. He took a knee in front of Jimmy and grabbed him by the scruff. “Now. Tell me what you’re doing here, little alpha.”

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a-nah · 10 hours ago

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John pulled into the parking lot of the abandoned mall. He turned around to check on baby Sammy in his carpet, still asleep. John ran his fingers through Dean's hair, Dean just watched Sammy with this haunted look in his eyes, still unable to speak. John pushed the hair from Dean's face and put it behind his ear. "Daddy will be right back." He kissed Dean's forhead.

Impala locked, and John hurried across to the dilapidated shopping mall. Gun hidden in his leather jacket. The cold morning air unsettled some leaves as John stepped up to the cracked and broken revolving door.

The air inside was dusty and stale. The paint on the walls was peeling. Everything was rundown or rotting.

John made his way through the maze of water damaged shops. He took the faulty escalator down to the basement. He was greeted with an iron door. A knock opened the wicket, and a voice rasped out, "How do you kill a vampire, stake or sunlight?"

"Neither." John replied. "You cut off their heads." The door swung open, and a tall man in a deerstalker let him in. John walked into a bustling crowd of vendors and hunters. Buying and selling goods you can't get at your average Costco.

John didn't stop for the soucouyant leather or the blessed salt. Instead, he headed straight for the Dome.

The Dome was where the entertainment and alive supernatural creatures were. At a hunter's market like this, those two things often meant the same thing.

The closer John got, the clearer he could hear the sounds of snarling and shouting.

Commentators called out species and descriptions. Bookies called out bets.

John ignored all the commotion and headed for the pens. He had to slip past more than one guard, but he made it. The cages where they kept all the monsters were filthy and smelled of droppings.

John ignored all the werewolves and djinns or even the more unique ones. John was looking for something very specific.

He found it in the darkest corner, warded to the gills, every limb chained, every piece of skin tattooed with sigils. There was nothing about it to suggest it wasn't human.

He hadn't believed Bobby when he said this market had one. They were rare, hard to find, and nearly impossible to capture. They were immortal, capable of travelling across the earth in seconds, able to heal even the most fatal injuries with a mere touch, invulnerable to almost everything, highly knowledgeable, able to read, write and speak every language and that's only what's been found out so far.

They were called Angels because of the shadows of wings that could sometimes be seen on their backs.

John's funds were low as it was. He could barely afford Sammy's diapers much less an angel. But if anyone had information on the thing that killed Mary, it would be this thing.

"Hi." John didn't bother trying to touch the bars. He knew they were electrocuted. A head full of messy black hair lifted and blue eyes pierced through John. They glowed in the dark just enough to be noticeable. "My name his John Winchester. I want to make a deal with you."

Castiel did not think this plan would work.

It had reached the ears of his superiors that the Winchester vessels had refused to let in their host in other dimensions due to a cynicism born out of their unusual and rough life. Castiel does not know how they reached this conclusion, but he had an inkling that Gabriel was involved.

His mission, unlike this plan, was clear, gain the Winchesters's trust and enter their lives.

So far, this plan, if it could even be called as such, had gotten him chained up in a cage with sigils tattooed all over his body. Thankfully, most of them were useless.

His current vessel was young and scrawny. He made sure to kneel so as to appear smaller. When he got up, Castiel made sure to roll his shoulders, letting the sound of his joints crack through the room. He groaned deeply, trying to mimic what he's seen.

When he walked over to John, he made sure to keep his pace smooth and to maintain eye contact. His voice when he spoke was low so as to not harm human ears. "What deal would that be?"

John shivered, and the room must be colder than Castiel realised. He must get warmer clothing soon. "Isn't it obvious?" John squared his shoulders. "Freedom for information."

Castiel tilted his head as he had seen many creatures do. A silent question. "You can release me?"

"I can if you promise to help me find the thing that killed my wife." John seemed to be having a hard time looking Castiel in the eye. His eyes kept roving over Castiel's vessel.

James Novak was a thirteen year old boy. He was thin and gangly with two big eyes

And a crop of messy black hair on his head. The nuns at the orphanage fondly called him Jimmy.

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a-nah · 11 hours ago

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"Why did you call him our pet, daddy?" Dean pipes up when John's tucking him in. Sammy's asleep in a makeshift crib made of pillows and blankets next to him. John thinks about his answer. "You remember how I told you there are things out there that aren't human." Dean nodded.

"Well he's one of them. But unlike the things that want to hurt us, he's under our control." Dean's nose scrunched up tight.

His little face seemed to struggle with emotions far greater than his limited knowledge could understand. John smoothed out the crease between Dean's eyebrows and pulled the scratchy motel blanket to his neck. "Go to sleep Dean. We'll talk more in the morning."

John checked on Sammy before getting into his own bed. Both father and son didn't get much sleep that night.

When Dean woke up in the morning, he was greeted by the same strange not-boy in the oversized and somewhat bloody trench coat his father had let into the Impala standing ramrod straight in the motel kitchenette. "Um, Daddy told me to tell you to get Sammy a bottle and make me breakfast." Dean looked down and nervously twiddled his thumbs, shuffling side to side.

Suddenly, the smell of something buttery and mouthwatering reached his nose. Dean lifted his head cautiously and blinked slowly at the plate of golden brown French toast on the little discoloured coffee table.

Dean and the not-boy stared at each other. Dean tried really hard not to blink, but he lost the staring contest. The not-boy placed a fork and spoon next to the plate. When he spoke, his voice was deeper than daddy's in the morning. "Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel. Here is your breakfast."

Dean frowned at the plate of food. He looks at the food and then at Castiel, fists clenching and un-clenching. Things had been... different ever since the fire ate up mama and all their things. Dean had gas station snacks waiting for him in the morning, not a steaming plate of freshly made food. He had asked for this but now that he had it he didn't know what to do. "What-what about Sammy's bottle." Yeah, focus on his brother. That was always easier than dealing with... whatever this was.

In a single blink, Castiel had a baby bottle full of milk in his once empty hand. Dean took the bottle absentmindedly. It was warm to the touch. He walked back to the bedroom and gave the bottle to his daddy, who was bouncing a screaming Sammy in his lap.

Daddy took the bottle with a "thanks Dean" and didn't even look at Castiel which made a weird feeling squirm in Dean’s stomach because he hadn't been the one to get Sammy's milk, not really.

Sammy suckled eagerly, finally quieting down. He'd need to be burped and then have his diaper changed later, Dean thought. Unless daddy won't have the adult juice he'd been having everyday since the fire ate Mama, he'd have to do it.

Daddy finished burping Sammy. He grimaced as Sammy threw up a little on the towel daddy had placed on his shoulder. He looked between the towel and Castiel with a strange expression. "Here." Daddy handed the towel to Castiel. "Wash this."

Dean made a face as Castiel took the towel with his whole hand instead of just pinching a corner. Just like the bottle the towel was clean in the blink of an eye.

John got up from the bed, giggling Sammy in hand. When he saw the French toast on the coffee table, his jaw clicked. "Get me some Joe." He grunted and cradled Sammy against his chest as he took a fork and ate a piece of toast.

His eyes closed in contentment. Dean sat down beside him and picked up the spoon. He broke off a piece and stuffed it in his mouth. His eyes closed in bliss and he moaned. It was melt-in-your-mouth deliciousness. Crunchy bread with the gooey syrup on top. It was heaven. Even Mama's cooking hadn't been as good as this, Dean thought with a twinge of guilt.

Castiel just watched them eat, expressionless, motionless, like Spock. Dean waited for daddy to ask Castiel to sit down and eat but he never did.

After breakfast, daddy made Castiel change Sammy's diapers while Dean watched. The not-boy's hands were slow but sure as they unclipped the diaper and wiped Sammy's tushy with wet wipes. Dean swayed from side to side. Daddy had told him not to warn Castiel.

When Castiel reached for a new diaper, it happened. Sammy peed right in his face. Dean stifled laughter as Castiel blinked. He stood there like a statue, face wet with yellow piss. Sammy kicked his legs in the air, clearly delighted. Dean couldn't help it, Cas looked so ridiculous, he doubled over laughing. Sammy squealed along with him.

This continued with lunch and dinner. Cas brought chicken with rice and spaghetti with mushroom sauce. Dean ate both meals with gusto. Smiling along with Sammy as Cas fed him under Daddy's watchful eye.

After dinner, Daddy barked out a new order at Cas. "Bathe them." He said and threw a towel at Cas's head.

The motel they were staying at had a bathtub. Cas filled it with water and turned to Dean and Sammy. The door was closed. This was the first time Daddy had left them alone.

Cas took Sammy from Dean's arms and started undressing him. Dean striped down to nothing and put a hand in the water. His hand barely skimmed the surface before he pulled it back. "It's too hot!" He hissed at Cas. Cas blinked again and gave a now naked Sammy back to Dean. He fiddled with the knobs. "Is that better." He finally asked.

This time, when Dean put his hand in, the water was lukewarm if a bit on the warmer side. Dean stepped in first. The water came up to his neck when he sat down. Then Cas handed Sammy to him. "So.." Cas kneeled next to the tub. "How does a bath work?"

Sammy splashed the water in Dean’s lap, cooing happily. "Well.." Dean cupped some water in his palm and poured it onto the thin, downy hairs on Sammy's head. "..usually there are bubbles." Sammy gurgled in agreement.

Cas held his hand up in a fist. When he opened it, a bubble came out of thin air. "Like this?" Cas asked, head tilted like a puppy. Dean giggled. "No, silly, I mean bath bubbles. You pour the pretty lotion into the water, and it makes bubbles foam up."

Cas stood up, still fully dressed, but now, with the sleeves of his trench coat rolled up. There was a sudden whoosh of wind that had Dean hunching over Sam. When he unfurled himself, Cas had a bright blue bottle in his hand.

He poured the contents, some shiny blue fluid into the water. Slowly, the tub filled up with bubbles. Sammy babbled and shrieked, slapping at the water around him with tiny pudgy hands, making "ge, ge, geh" sounds. Dean scooped up some foam in his hand and just stared at it in amazement.

"What is next?"Castiel asked. Dean broke out of his trance. "Now we wash." He said, looking for the soap. Cas handed it to him. Dean foamed up Sammy's hair and started massaging the soap into his hair, trying to imitate what he remembered his mama doing. Castiel took it all in with a singular focus.

Dean washed Sammy and then handed him over to Castiel. "Now you dry him." Castiel wrapped Sammy up in the blanket like a burrito and started patting him down while Sammy make "plreh" sounds. Dean started washing himself, still keeping an eye on Cas and Sammy. Cas put Sammy down on the closed toilet seat and put a new diaper on him.

Dean finished bathing just as Cas finished dressing Sammy in his blue onesie. Dean pulled the towel Cas had hung up and dried himself with it.

Dad watched from the doorway as Cad tucked Dean and Sammy in his makeshit crib next to Dean's side. "Daddy since Castiel's a pet, does that mean he can cuddle with us?' Dean piped up just as Cas was about to leave. Castiel's head wipped around and John straightened up from where he was leaning against the doorway.

Dean has never seen his dad at a loss for words but he did now. John gesticulated without actually articulating anything. Finally a sort of defeated look came over his face. "Fine." He said reluctantly. " I don't see why not."

Castiel for his part looked like he was regretting all his life choices. Dean patted the bed. "Come here Cas." He said.

Castiel went. He didn't seem angry like when Daddy ordered him around but he didn't seem happy either. He obediently went to Dean and layed down where Dean had made room. He willingly arranged himself to Dean's liking with Dean's head on Cas's arm and Sammy between them.

It's the best sleep Dean's had since the fire.

Castiel's main objective was to care for Dean Winchester, not Sam Winchester. In fact, caring for Sam Winchester would be counter-active. As Lucifer's future vessel, he should despise the heavenly host.

Easier said than done. Castiel had learned quickly that Dean would rather starve than let Sammy go without. The little boy seemed to have trouble speaking, although there was nothing wrong with his vocal cords, but he would watch Sam finish his bottle before he even touched his own food. Castiel had tried different recipes and items. Dean's eyes had lit up when Castiel gave him a PB&J sandwich, but he hadn't eaten it till Sam was done feeding.

Honestly Castiel was having trouble rationalising neglecting an infant.

Being down here on Earth, in a human vessel was giving him a new perspective on his father's creation. Castiel like listening to the birds chirp in the trees and feel the warmth of the sunlight on his face.

Of course, John hadn't given him full authorisation immediately. The man had watched him closely the first days. His demands started small and reasonable. Get some milk for Sammy, and cook breakfast for Dean. Simple things Castiel could easily do.

The demands increased in frequency and difficulty over time. Castiel would never forget the first time he was asked to bathe the boys and change Sammy's diapers.

Then one day, John got a phone call. When he was finished, he leaned his head on the wall. His shoulders slumped.

"Dean! Come here!"John called. Dean came running to his father's side. The little boy was smiling a lot more nowadays. Father and son smiled at each other. John bent down to be at eye level to Dean.

"I have to go, son. Bobby has a case." John told Dean. The parenting book Castiel had read said the warning signs of a tantrum were stomping feet and huffy red faces. Dean checked both boxes. But the little boy didn't say anything as John packed up his weapons and clothes. He didn't say anything as John donned his leather jacket and grabbed his car keys. He didn't say anything as John barked at Castiel to "Take care of them" before speeding off in the Impala.

No, Dean didn't say anything until he threw himself into Castiel's arms and buried his head in Castiel's neck. "I hate it when he leaves." Dean mumbled. The parenting books had said to de-escalate the situation and comfort the child. So Castiel just held him.

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a-nah · 11 hours ago

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Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!

When the angel stepped into the light, the first thing John noticed was how small he was. Not unusual. John himself was over 6 feet. Most people were small to him. Then he realised why.

The intimidating shadowy figure transformed into a young boy with wide blue eyes and chubby cheeks. Something burned in the back of John's throat. He gulped it down. "OK, what's holding you here?" John mumbled, not really expecting an answer.

The Angel answered anyway. "They've drawn sigils around the perimeter in blood." John found them. A ring of symbols around the cage in dried blood brown. He broke the circle with the heel of his boot. "Breaking out will cause quite a bit of noise."

John frowned. "Can't you..teleport or something." The kid- shit don’t think about it - angel blinked. "The tattoos on my back prevent flight. I can not..telly-port."

John ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Fine, I'll cause some kind of a commotion, and you can slip out through the chaos. My car is a 67 Chevy Impala. It's parked out front. Meet me there." John didn't wait yo see if the Angel agreed. He walked back towards the Dome.

Pretty sloppy work putting the starved vampires right next to the stall selling all kinds of blood. These hunters really had no one to blame but themselves. And John.

The vamps crashed into the stall, breaking jars and spilling blood anywhere. One bent down to lick the blood up like a dog. And then seized up cause it just drank dead man's blood. It was morbidly funny.

There was an uproar in the Dome as they handlers cut the fight short to deal with the jail break. Hunters reached for weapons, and vendors ran away. Heads rolled, and shots rang. Feet stomped and fangs snarled. It was chaos incarnate. It was perfect.

John ran for the door, back the way he came. Some hunter yelled "coward" after him, and John had to duck his head to hide his smile.

Castiel peeked into the front window of the Impala. Suspicious and fierce green eyes stared back at him. Behind the older brother, Castiel could see tiny chubby hands reach out from what the childcare books had called an infant car seat.

Castiel sensed John's presence behind him and moved to turn around and greet him but was shocked still by the sound and feel of something clicking shut around his neck.

Ah, the part of the plan that Castiel was the least enthused about. John had placed a collar around his neck.

It wasn't the typical dog collar, although it did have a tag. This one was made out of bronze wires with an obsidian pendant. Castiel knew without looking that the names of all three Winchesters had been carved on it.

"You know what that is?" John asked, voice hard. His heart was pounding.

Castiel did. "No." He said. "It's a special collar that gives me power over you." John walked over to the driver's side. "It means you're my bitch now. Get in the car." John ordered.

Castiel fumed but did as he was told. It hadn't been easy. Keeping the information contained but unsuspicious and believable. An old hunter's journal had to be altered and then placed in a position convenient for Bobby Singer to find.

This collar didn't actually do anything than give John Winchester an illusion of control. What better way to insert himself into the Winchesters's lives than to make them think it was their idea.

Dean stared at him at him from next to John, shielding Sam from Castiel. "Who is he, Daddy?" He didn't take his eyes off of Castiel. "Our new pet." John casually said as he pulled out of the parking lot. Castiel could do nothing but bristle silently. He missed the strange shine in Dean’s eyes.

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a-nah · 11 hours ago

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Jimmy held Sam's hand as they walked down the sidewalk. His hand felt tiny in Jimmy’s hand, like a butterfly. A little ways away, in front of them, Dean twirled around a streetlight. Sam is unusually quiet but he smiles at his brother's antics.

When they reach the cross walk, Jimmy calls Dean over. Dean sticks out his tongue and says that jaywalking isn't the worst thing he's done. There are other families there, cars dropping off kids, parents waving goodbye.

It's a busy street. The cars honk, the traffic police blow their whistle, there's a child crying their lungs out.

John has called for us, Castiel says in his head. Ten more minutes, Jimmy pleads.

Dean walks into school like he owns the place. "Hello Ladies." He says to a group of girls near the entrance and beams boyish and triumphant when Jimmy laughs. Dean walks up to a group of boys his age and instantly makes friends.

"Do you want me to walk you in?" Jimmy asks Sam. He's too young to find being dropped off embarrassing so Sammy shyly agrees. They walk hand in hand to Sammy's class.

There's a teacher greeting parents at the door. Her hair is dark and done up in thick braids. She smiles at each child dropped off at her door and waves goodbye at every parent. Her smile is sincere and reassuring.

Her smile falters the tiniest bit when she gets to Jimmy and Sam. Her scent flares just a bit. Sammy notices and hides behind Jimmy’s legs. Her smile comes back in full force and she holds out her hand. "And who might you be?" She asks. "This is Sam." Jimmy introduces.

He doesn't offer an name for himself. He knows how he looks. A teenager in a sea of adults. At best they'll think he's a big brother, at worst they'll think he's a teen dad. This early in the morning the only scents on him are of Sam and Dean's milk pup scent. From the slight pity and concern Jimmy can read on the teacher's scent, she's assumed the latter.

"Well Sam, I'm Mrs. Hallin." She said. "Would you like to come with me?" She doesn't spare a glance at Jimmy having written him off. Social norms say she should address the omega even if he's only a pup.

Sam glances up at Jimmy uncertainly. Jimmy smiles and nudges him forward. Sam hesitantly takes Mrs. Hallin's hand. She guides him into her classroom. Right as they're about to cross the threshold, Sam Yells "Wait!" He breaks free from her hold and runs to Jimmy.

Jimmy kneels so they're at eye level and hugs Sam. His little pup snuggles into the scent glands on his neck and hums happily even though Jimmy’s scent was currently blocked off by Castiel's powers. Sammy pulls back with a serious expression which looked adorable on his young face. "I'll see you in the evening." He declared but added shyly "Right?" Jimmy smiled and placed their forheads together. "Of course." He replied and kissed Sammy's forehead.

Sam went back to Mrs. Hallin and waved goodbye. Jimmy waved back until they couldn’t see each other anymore.

Shall we leave now? Castiel asked in his head. Yes. Jimmy said, and they were gone.

Castiel watched the whole procession with sharp eyes, taking in every detail and storing it in the essences of himself that held his billions of years of memory.

He never got tired of this. He had never known it was possible for a being like him to have such experiences. He knew of children but he had never before knew how small their hands could feel, nor who their laughter rang like bells, nor how their love could feel so unconditional and encompassing. He wondered briefly in the innermost essences of himself if God was a child.

Castiel could hear John calling him. More an order than a prayer. John's feelings for him were a lot more complex. Castiel could spend an eternity deciphering them.

Jimmy’s thoughts and emotions were like gentle rain. He was a most calm and reasonable human being. He felt great satisfaction in caring for the Winchester brothers. And in helping Castiel in his mission. There were inklings of other emotions but those were much harder to decipher. Pain? Injustice? Enochian had no words for such things.

When Castiel had been assigned to the Winchesters he had expected the unexpected. Angels were not often tasked to watch over humans. The humans allocated this honour were a select, significant few. The Winchesters certainly qualified but the level of interaction allowed was unprecedented.

Castiel had realised within days that the Winchester children were not being given proper care. John was clearly still mourning his wife and tended to get absorbed in cases. Then the guilt of leaving his children alone for so long would lead him to drink. It was terribly tragic and human.

That first day in Bobby Singer's House had made him realise he needed human help. And who better than his own vessel, James Novak. The teenager has been invaluable in Castiel's mission. His perception of human emotions and social skills have been crucial and his knowledge of human children while limited is greatly appreciated.

As an angel, Castiel had never known inadequacy but it was undeniable that without Jimmy Novak he would have found himself...lacking.

Gratitude was a new and strange sensation but not unwelcome.

After waving goodbye to Sam, Jimmy had been ambushed by Dean on the way out.

The boy had pressed a kiss to Jimmy's neck, right over his scent glands and smiled in a way Jimmy read as a cheeky grin and ran back to his friends.

Indeed, Castiel was sure such interactions would have left him floundering if not for the astute observations of his vessel.

If it weren’t for Jimmy, Castiel would never have known such a display of affection was Dean growing into his God-given authority as an omega and claiming Castiel/ Jimmy as his. Dean's scent lingered on Jimmy’s skin, sharp and possessive.

But there were still some things better left to Castiel.

The scene Castiel arrived to was in a word, gory. It reminded Castiel of the "horror movies" that Dean loved. There was a monster ripping out a man's intestine and eating them. The creature looked like the corpse of an animal disfigured and bloated by drowning. Its yellow eyes tore at the man's gaping stomach, shovelling flesh into its maw with bloody spindle like hands. The man’s dying screams were dwindling down to throaty gurgles. He was clearly about to die.

John was knocked out a few feet to the left. His head was bloody but he was alive. This man however didn't have much time left.

Castiel summoned his angelic sword and slit the monster's throat. It gushed out a few streams of black, tar-like blood and collapsed. Castiel kicked it away from the man as it twitched and spurted more blood.

The damage was severe but salvageable. The man’s insides were partially digested by the monster so Castiel would have to make new ones. A process that would take no small amount of grace.

The man was barely conscious but there was a hint of something in his eyes when he looked at Castiel. His hands glowed with angelic power, slowly the man’s insides knit themselves back together. His cells, momentarily powered by grace, produced new cells and tissue and organs. The man heaved in a gasp as his body was repaired.

Castiel left the man groping at his midsection in disbelief and moved on to John. His reserves were low but he had enough to heal John's concussion and get rid of the blood and the body of the beast.

Now rid of gore, the air smelled of pine trees and a young spring down the hill. There were pale pink flowers and bees buzzing about.

John awoke with a start, immediately going for his gun. He rolled away and pointed the gun at Castiel. The man behind them yelled "John!"

John unloaded one bullet into Castiel before his eyes cleared and he realised who he was shooting at. It was a salt round, with his reserves so low Castiel's not sure how he could have handled lead.

Jimmy had shut himself off when they came upon the beast but now he returned in bits and pieces. You should help John up. He said.

Castiel extended his hands, but he was pushed away. John's face a mask of hardened resolve, his scent a sharp tang of adrenaline and lingering anger. Confused, he went to the other man. This time his help was accepted. Castiel pulled the man up more forcefully than intended. He had thought with his reserves so low he'd have to expand more strength.

The man crashed into Castiel's chest, his breath hot and ragged against his neck. Castiel, instinctively, grabbed his hand and his waist, holding him steady. The man leaned his full weight on him, his scent a mix of blood, fear, and something else, a faint, almost sweet aroma that Castiel couldn't quite place. "Hi," he said. The man chuckled, a weak, shaky sound. "Hey. Thanks for..." He gestured vaguely at his abdomen. "Your welcome." Castiel nodded.

John pushed himself up off the ground. "Bill, Castiel. Castiel, Bill." He introduced.

"Castiel, huh? That's a strange name." Castiel nodded again, unsure of what else to do.

You should help them to the car. Jimmy said. So Castiel bent down and picked up Bill, one arm around his back and the other under his knees. It was a few arms less than Castiel's liking.

"Woah." John darted towards them, seemingly angry. "What do you think you're doing!" Bill held up a hand and layed his head on Castiel's shoulder. "John, it's okay."

John's hands clenched around his gun but his eyes darted to Bill's stomach. "Fine." John grunted. "Come on."

The sweetness in Bill's scent increased steadily as they made their way to the road. He started sniffing at Castiel's scent glands. Jimmy had requested he smell like a beta a while back. This action clearly made his vessel uncomfortable. Castiel hoped Bill would stop soon.

The Impala was parked next to a Grey Mustang. Castiel put Bill on his feet next to the grey car. "Thanks cutie." Bill smiled.

"Okay, that's enough." John dragged Castiel away from Bill. "Get in the car." John pushed him towards the Impala. "John!" Bill protested. "Goodbye, Bill." John stated, no room for disagreement. "Go home to your wife."

The atmosphere in the Impala was tense. Castiel had the strange urge to squirm. "Did you understand what Bill was trying to do?" John growled. Castiel thought. "He was... propositioning me, because he was about to enter heat."

John laughed dryly. "Good to know you're not completely oblivious." They lapsed back into to silence.

Suddenly John grabbed Castiel by the scruff of his neck and pulled him into a bruising kiss. "Never get that close to an another omega ever again." John ordered and sat back in his seat, leaving Castiel feeling immensely out of his depth.

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