The Angel Seed

You Are No Stranger To Me

The door opened at its usual, on point, time and Dean paused at the door momentarily. As if it were no bother to him anymore, Castiel's leg hung over the ledge of the second level with his wing unfolded as he combed his fingers through his own feathers. Grooming himself, Dean had imagined. Walking along he put the basket up on the hook seeing Castiel was busy with his wings, and he was off with his morning work. Soon being done, learning his way around being quick with working and sitting down enough to draw Castiel, he sat down on top of the hay stack again and pulled up his papers. He watched.

Observed Castiel so easily like a person would watch the stars. Moving and shining, all at the same time. He wrote down notes but not just any notes, notes about Castiel and how he reacted to things. Who he was, what he was, what he did every morning when Dean came in, what he did every evening when Dean wasn't around ­­ that one he took a guess on ­­, his curiosity and his slow advancing to adaptions and routines, willingness to getting used to things, learning, and trying things. It was all amazing to write such things about a creature so different, a creature so unique and one of a kind. And to have it right in front of him? Almost impossibly thought.

"Dean!!" Someone called from the house.Dean's eyes went wide as they looked to Castiel, Castiel turned his head almost instantly to the voice in fear. Dean didn't want Castiel to run in fear."Dean!!" They called again, and this time Dean got up from sitting down and moved to the barn door. Glancing back he closes the door fully behind him and tries walking humanly slow, showing no fear that he was hiding something in the barn ­­ it was a good thing they let the barn work to him most of the time.

"What is it?"

Ellen, the mother figure of the house and also Joanne's mother, was standing in the doorway. "The mail came in. I wanted to make sure you were notified about it."

Dean walked into the grand house, walking through the rooms like maze work. He could do it blind folded. "Where is it?"

"The kitchen." Ellen said walking off somewhere to appear in the room magically looking over Dean's shoulder.

Dean went through the mail. By judgement he tossed most to the side, opened some, and left the rest. He stopped picking one . "The Town's Building? What could they want?"

"I don't know. Well, what ever it is, it has to be important." She commented walking towards the doorway almost suspiciously.

Dean opened the letter and began reading, " 'Good morning, Mr.Winchester, news about your father has come in and he is violently ill," his voice began trailing away, "he asked of your attendance soon because he fears the worst that he may die soon. With respect and honor, we write to you that you should plan ahead and from local authority to friend, we wish you good day and best wishes to your father. Mayor Cain." Dean clenched his thinning jaw and empty hand turning white from pressing his hand into a fist. Knuckles white in anger. He looked to the letter's date, "This was sent in two days ago." He stated.

"We didn't realize it was so important."

He glared to Ellen and Jo in the doorway, "am I supposed to believe that?" He said sarcastically.

Ellen sighed, "We all know right that you hate that man with all thats left of you." She argued.

"That doesn't give you the right to hold the message."

"Im protecting you, its my right and job to do that for you."

"Holding my mail and important information isn't." He clenched his teeth together, he pressed his knuckled against the top of the table and hung his head."Next time I get something in the mail, I want it when it comes in. For all I know the man's dead­­."

"And you'd be worried about that?"

He pointed his stern finger at her, "I don't need you telling me what I care for and don't." He snatched the letter in hand,

"You live in my house, its not the other way around." Walking out of the door, he walked over to the horse's pen. Automatically the horses greeted him stretching their necks over the fence as he stroked them and patted them down. Looking at the letter again, he sighed and folded it shoving it in his pocket. Looking to the horses again, the barn sat in the corner of his eye. Looking to it, he thought of Castiel and how he had seemed so scared of anyone else's voice but was used to, or at least he thought he was, Dean's presence and voice.

Walking over to the barn, he pulled the door open and it was almost like someone had covered his eyes with a veil. Out stretched wings and arms reaching up, Castiel stretched standing in the middle of the barn comfortably but when the door opened he turned to Dean scared. Wings closing to its tiniest size, colors disappearing, and instantly ­­ Castiel disappeared into the shadows of the hay again. Dean couldn't get the picture from his mind.

Black wings stretched out showing its great length and muscles of how strong they were, the feathers were black and on the tips were light taps of blue like they were painted gently on. His wings so long they were a tripling size of his arms out, if Dean could see Castiel walk his wings would drag along behind him if he walked. Or the tips of his wings at least on how he held them up so high, not letting them touch the ground if he were standing. Over and over the look of Castiel's wings drew into his mind and he just couldn't stop imagining them soaring through the sky, if Castiel ever flew around before, ­­ he was obsessed with the creature he had come to know.