#growing powers

Castiel led Dean through a small woven curtain into a carved out hole in the back of the hut. There were shelves dug into the walls and a small rug laying in the back.

“This is my root cellar. Fruits and vegetables are on the shelves with herbs and spices used for cooking. There’s meat and cheese in there.” Castiel kicked the rug out of the way to reveal a hole filled with white pouches tied with string.

“I can work with this,” Dean said smiling. “Why don’t you go start the fire and I’ll see what I can come up with?”

Castiel nodded, mentally taking note that food made Dean seem very happy, and brushed past the curtain. He gathered firewood and tossed them into the fireplace before swinging a large black pot over the stack. He looked down at his hands and contemplated for a moment.

“I wonder,” he whispered. Kneeling down, he held his hands out, palms down to the wood and closed his eyes. Orange and red swirled behind his eyelids as his hands began to tingle. He gasped, falling back on his heels when he heard the wood crack and pop as the flames worked their way up towards the pot. He stood quickly and turned around to see Dean standing there with his arms full of food.

“I uh,” he held up the packages, “hope you don’t mind. I’m really hungry.” He walked around Castiel and sat on a small stool. “I could feel that,” he murmured as he pulled the string off a package.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said immediately. “I didn’t---I just wondered---”

“It’s alright,” Dean smiled faintly. He unwrapped the chunk of meat and tossed the paper into the fire. He turned the meat over in his hand and picking at a piece of fat.

“Do you need a knife? I can---”

“Nope,” Dean smiled earnestly this time. He held up his pointer finger and flicked it to the side. Castiel gasped when a long brown talon emerged where a fingernail used to be. “Don’t worry, it’s clean.” Dean chuckled to himself as he started carving up the meat.

“How did you do that?” Castiel asked, walking over and kneeling down to get a better look.

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. Kinda always been able to do stuff like that.” He tossed a few pieces of meat into the pot. “I can make feathers sprout, the claw thing, and I have really fucking good eyesight.” He finished cutting up the meat and threw it into the pot before peeling open another package. “You got anything like that?”

Castiel shook his head. “No. I think it’s been established that I am, in fact, a ‘shit witch’.”

Dean laughed at the mocking tone the witch used as he sliced a thin piece of cheese off and popped it into his mouth. “Yeah, well, that’ll change now I guess.” He frowned around his talon as he licked it clean. He looked up and sighed, eyeing the three now sleeping heads. “What’s the deal with those?” he asked, gesturing with his chin.

Castiel turned and smiled up at the heads. “That’s Flox, Pital, and Badler. I accidentally cursed them when I was twelve.” The witch shook his head and raised an eyebrow. “Gabriel said it was be irresponsible to pawn them off on someone else, so they’ve been with me ever since. They’re a handful but you’ll learn to love them.” He smiled and turned back to Dean who was staring at the witch with an unreadable expression. “I mean, what I meant to say was--”

“Cas you can calm down,” Dean chuckled.”Ok, yeah it took some time getting used to this,” he gestured between them, “I mean, I’m still getting used to it obviously, but you don’t have to tiptoe around.” Castiel nodded and stared at the fire. “So, cursed, huh? What were you trying to do?”

Castiel licked his lips and smiled. Dean watched as the witch’s tongue wet his lower lip before sharply turning his head towards the pot.

“Believe it or not, I was trying to grow their bodies back.” Castiel looked up at Dean through his lashes. “I found them at the market and felt so bad for them. They were just hanging there, dried out and sad. So I bought them and took them home. I must’ve added too much willow bark because after I added it to my cauldron and--poof. Literally,” he laughed.

“So you like brewing?” Dean asked as he sprinkled rosemary into the pot.

“I suppose I like the idea of it? The only ones that ever turn out alright are my healing potions. Anything else and it’s just a huge pot of slime.”

“Except for the one you made me,” Dean murmured, glancing over at the witch.

“Yes. Well, those were under different circumstances.” He looked up at Dean and for a moment they held each others gaze.

The fire popped loudly, making the men jump. Dean chuckled and turned his attention back to stirring the pot. “Our brothers seem to think you were able to make it because I was here, not to mention I was feeling sick.” He tapped the spoon on the side of the pot and laid it down, his eyebrows pulling together. “How did you know I was afraid of flying?” he asked in a quiet voice.

Castiel shifted his feet out from under himself and sat cross legged on the dirt. “Well, you were falling. I caught you and then,” he ran his hands nervously over his thighs, “I could just feel it. Your thoughts were racing and I could feel your anxiety. It stopped when you were closer to the ground. It completely stopped---”

“When you brought me here,” Dean finished. He nodded and tapped his fingers on his knee. “Yeah, you know I can kind of almost remember that? I remember feeling safe. And I remember tasting something bitter, but after that I just---” he sighed and stood up, looking into the pot. “I just felt like everything was going to be ok. Bowls?”

Castiel blinked as the familiars words registered. “Oh, yes.” He stood quickly and went to the cupboard. He pulled out two bowls and grabbed a hard loaf of bread on the way back to Dean.

Dean piled their bowls full and carried them over to the couch, placing one in front of the witch. “Your brother seems like a piece of work,” he said before taking a bite.

Castiel chuckled and tore a chunk off the end of the bread and handed it to Dean. “Funny. Sam said the same about you.” He dipped his bread into his bowl and took a bite as he watched Dean smile.

“Yeah well he isn’t easy to get along with sometimes, either. Been that way since he was a little kid.”

“You two seem very close,” Castiel hedged.

Dean nodded. “I raised him,” he said around a mouthful.

Castiel let his bread drop into his bowl. “Your parents---”

“Died when I was eleven,” he muttered.

“I’m very sorry, Dean. I didn’t know,” Castiel whispered.

Dean shrugged. “That’s why we’re talking, isn’t it? Getting to know each other.”

“Would you tell me more about them?” the witch asked as he pushed the bread around in his bowl.

“Not that great of a story. Dad was a witch, mom was his familiar. He pushed her too hard and she got sick.” He looked at Castiel with a piercing expression. “The kind of sick you don’t recover from when your witch uses up your power and leaves you to die. Alone.” Dean stood quickly and walked over to the sink, dumping his bowl into it roughly.

Castiel stood on shaky legs and watched Dean’s shoulder hunch. “Dean I’d never---”

“Yeah, that’s what dad said, too.” He sighed and rubbed his jaw. “Said he’d never hurt her, never leave. He did both. Left me and Sammy to fend for ourselves because he couldn’t take what he did to her.” He turned around and crossed his arms as he rested against the large wooden log counter.

The witches heart sunk and Dean must have felt it because his eyes shot up. “Don’t do that,” he pointed a sharp finger in Castiel’s direction. “Don’t feel bad for me. I don’t need your pity,” he spat.

“I don’t pity you, Dean.” He walked forward until he was a few feet away from his familiar. “Of course I feel sorrow for your mother, I cannot fathom a witch being so selfish. I’m just sorry you had to go through it alone. You were so young, it couldn’t have been easy raising your brother.”

Dean scoffed and looked anywhere but at Castiel. “You know, it wasn’t even all that bad. We had each other for a long time and we were alright. I taught him how to hunt and fish. Hell we even moved out of dad’s old place and built our own home.” He frowned and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Then why do you feel so upset?” Castiel asked.

Dean’s eyes flicked to the witch then down at his feet. “It was Charlie.”

Castiel cocked his head. “I thought you two---”

“Yeah, of course we’re friends,” he waved a hand in the air. “I love her like a sister. But the day Sam met her I knew. I knew I was going to be alone after that. I came to terms with that. I’d rather be alone than all used up and dead somewhere.”

The witch’s reached his hand out and gently laid it on Dean’s arm that was hugging his stomach tight. “You don’t have to go through life alone anymore, Dean.”

Dean stared down at the witch’s hand and bit the inside of his cheek. A feeling of comfort spread throughout his chest before he shrugged it off. He watched as Castiel removed his hand and frowned.

“You cooked, I’ll clean up,” the witch said quietly before turning to his half eaten dinner. “It was delicious, by the way. Thank you.”

Dean scuffed his foot into the dirt. “Yeah, no problem. I think---I’m gonna go stretch my wings if that’s alright.”

Castiel turned to Dean with his eyebrows pulled together. “You never have to ask my permission Dean. I just ask that you stay relatively close to the hut. Being too far apart right now isn’t--”

“Yeah, I got it.” Dean shoved off the counter and headed towards the door. He peeled off his shirt and hung it on a nearby twig sticking out from the wall. He pushed past the curtain and sighed into the cool night air. He looked up into the sky and watched a flock of birds pass overhead. The thought made his stomach ache a little.

What are you doing? he thought to himself. He peeked back through the moss and watched as Castiel slowly moved through the hut, picking up stray pieces of string and packaging.

Running a hand roughly through his hair, he groaned and walked back into the hut.

The familiar waved a hand vaguely towards his stomach. “Uh, not really feelin’ so hot.”

The witch frowned. “Yes, I felt it too. I apologize. Father needed to speak with me and I assumed it would be in the throne room.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah that’s where I looked first. Some lady led me down here.”

They stared at each other for an agonizingly long minute before Dean cleared his throat.

“Cas, can we talk abo---”

“You must be tired. Let me show you to our room.” Castiel walked quickly up the stairs two at a time as Dean followed slowly behind. He watched as Castiel stopped in front of a set of large wooden doors with his hand on the knob. He glanced at Dean before pushing them open and gestured Dean inside.

There was a large bed pushed against the right side of the room covered in blue blankets and fur throws. A dusty desk sat in the corner covered in old books and loose papers. Dean walked inside the room and up to a bookshelf stuffed with wooden toys and more books. There were simple drawings of bugs and flowers pinned to the wall and a small burn mark in the center of the floor.

Dean turned to Castiel who was scuffing his toe in the entry way. “This is your room, isn’t it?”

Without looking up, Castiel grinned. “What was your first clue?”

Dean walked over and tapped his foot on the burn mark and Castiel chuckled, running a hand through his still damp hair. “Plus, I don’t think other kids read this much.”

“There wasn’t much else for me to do when I was little so,” Castiel waved a hand towards the bookshelf. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Cas’ face fall.

“Must be weird coming back,” Dean muttered as he ran his fingers through the thick fur of what used to be a deer.

“That’s an understatement.” Castiel sighed and walked over to sit next to Dean. “I hated this place,” he whispered. “I couldn’t wait to leave.” He looked up to the faded stars on the ceiling. “Do you see those?”

Dean looked up and nodded.

“My mother painted those for me when I was three. She would spend a lot of time in here with me while the others were in class.” He leaned back on his elbows and stared at the ceiling.

“Class?” Dean asked, laying down next to the witch.

“We---they had tutors. Father brought them in from all over the world to teach my siblings how to cast and brew.” He pulled his eyebrows together and frowned. “It didn’t take long for them to realize I was a lost cause and suggested I spend my time doing something else.”

Dean laid on his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “And that something else was being stuck in your room?”

“Essentially. I was bitter about it for a long time, but I figured I’d spend my time learning. Gabriel, as annoying as he is,” he chuckled, “gave me great advice. He said I should read and learn as much as I possibly could so I’d be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Castiel shrugged. “I have no idea.”

They lay there and watched the stars in comfortable silence. Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes grew heavy and began to close. He pulled a blanket up from the bottom of the bed and covered the witch, smiling as he immediately nuzzled into it. He laid down next to him and slipped the deer fur over his body. He reached out and ran a fingertip through the witch’s hair before closing his eyes.

Goodnight, Cas.

~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel pressed his face into the soft pillow and sighed. He felt a steady breath gently puffing against cheek as he peeled his eyes open. The sun was shining through the window and blanketed Dean in a soft yellow glow. He smiled softly and trailed his fingers up the familiars arm to cup his cheek. Dean hummed in his sleep and leaned into the touch. Castiel let his hand drift to Dean’s chest and traced the bonding marks with feather light touches. Orange sparks chased his fingertips and tingled under his skin.

“Tickles,” Dean mumbled. He shifted closer to the witch and draped an arm around the witch’s waist.

Castiel chuckled and felt his chest swell. “It’s time to wake up, Dean.”

The familiar burrowed deeper into the blankets and shook his head, tightening his grip on the witch’s hip. A sharp intake of breath made him open his tired eyes. The first thing he saw was a pair of blue eyes with orange sparks flickering through them. He grinned and pressed his fingers roughly into the witch’s hip as he rolled his hips forward.

“Dean,” Castiel gasped, his eyes now flaming. “We should---o-o-oh,” he moaned as Dean’s hand slipped lower, now grazing his hardening cock.

“Do you want this?” Dean barely whispered. His leaned in and brushed his lips against Cas’ chest.

Castiel nodded quickly. “I do. Yes,” he hissed when Dean’s fingers lightly stroked the head of his cock. “But I’ve never---” The breath punched from his lungs as Dean gripped him tight and slid his thumb over the witch’s slit.

Dean kissed his way up Castiel’s chest and looked into his flaming eyes. He licked his lips and smirked when he felt the witch fuck himself into his fist.

“Never what?” Dean whispered, leaning lose enough to the witch’s mouth that he could feel his staggered breaths against his lips.

A knock at the door made Castiel jump.

“What?” he barked, his voice breaking.

“Sir it’s time for your lesson,” a timid voice called from the other side of the door.

Castiel looked back to Dean who sighed and rolled out of bed. Frustratingly running a hand through his hair, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and hung his head.

“Dean, I---”

“It’s fine, Cas,” Dean huffed as he pulled on a pair of pants.

“No, it’s not. Before we were interrupted I was going to say,” he sighed heavily and pinched his eyes closed, “I’ve never---been with anyone. Like that.” He gestured towards the center of the bed where they were laying moments before.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked at the back of the witch’s head. “You’re joking.”

Castiel stood and turned to face Dean. “Does it look like I’m joking? Dean, I left the castle when I was young. I live in a hut and avoid people at all costs. Is it really so hard to believe that I’ve never---never done---”

Dean walked quickly over to his witch and ran his hands up and down the mans arms. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m sorry. I just kinda figured, y’know,” Dean shrugged.

“Know what?”

Dean scoffed. “Look at yourself, Castiel.” The familiar turned the witch around and faced a floor length mirror in the corner of the room. He hooked his chin over Cas’ shoulder and ran his hands up his neck. “You’re amazing. Sexy as fuck.” His fingers threaded through his wild bedhead. “Your hair, your body, fuck Cas, your eyes? Seeing their reaction when I touch you drives me crazy.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of the witch’s neck and inhaled deeply. “You drive me crazy. Never been like this with anyone else,” he whispered.

Castiel bit back a smile and lowered his gaze from the mirror. “And to think, a few days ago you were dead set on not being my familiar.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let his hands fall to the witch’s hips. “Even if it wasn’t for the bond I don’t think I could stay away from you. But if you aren’t comfortable with the touching or the---y’know, other stuff yet, just say the word and I’ll back off.”

The witch felt his mark spark and watched in the mirror as it glowed to life. “I--I like what we’ve done so far,” he confessed in a quiet voice. He felt Dean smile against his neck and plant a soft kiss there.

Another knock made both men groan.

“Coming,” Castiel called out.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean sat with his feet perched on an old table in the library as he watched Castiel clumsily read Latin words aloud.

“Misce casia, hamaemilla, et ocimum in patera post machinim,” the witch mumbled as he sprinkled herbs into a bowl.

“Machinam,” Dean corrected.

Castiel looked up long enough to scowl at the witch and return to his book.

“Iterate interdum haec verba: Haud equidem tali me, avertam oculos meos, et vidi cum viridi caeruleo per eam!” He tossed a lit match into the bowl and it immediately erupted in a green smoke. “Dean, look.”

Dean watched the witch bat his eyelashes. “No shit!” He scooted closer and looked into the witch’s once blue eyes. “They’re the same color as mind now!” He took Castiel’s chin between his thumb and pointer finger and rolled his head from side to side, examining them. “That’s fucking cool, Cas. Can you change your hair and everything, too?”

The witch shrugged and rubbed at his eyes. “Most likely. It’s a simple transformation spell. He blinked rapidly and Dean watched as they changed back to blue.

“Simple? Cas a week ago you couldn’t do any of this. Now you’re changin’ your eye color on a whim. That’s awesome, I’m proud of you.” He felt his mark warm and saw the blush rise on Cas’ cheeks. “I think you’re ready for bigger stuff.”

“Like what?”

Dean tapped his chin and looked around the room. “There,” he pointed at a large candlestick on the mantel above a fireplace. “Turn that into a plant.”

“Dean, I don’t think--”

“Exactly, don’t think. Just do.” Dean gripped the witch by his shoulders and pulled him up into a standing position. “Try. For me,” he breathed against the witch’s neck.

Castiel sighed and rolled his head from side to side. “Ok. Ok, I can do this.” He stared at the candlestick hard and clenched his fist. “Virtute implere manus, convertat huius candelabri ut autem flos.” He rose his palms up and watched as orange wisps circled his wrists before floating towards the candlestick. It swirled around the silver stick and clung to it as leaves and petals blossomed from it’s stem. The mist dissipated and Castiel gasped as he walked over to the fireplace.

He plucked the rose off the mantle and walked back to his familiar, smiling widely as he handed it to him.

The witch smiled. “My father is wonderful. He was and still is very understanding when it comes to my magic, or lack there of. He never pressured me into finding a familiar or made me practice casting for hours. He’s very calm and generous. He let’s all his children stay in the castle for as long as they need to. Gabriel still lives there, in fact.”

Dean nodded along and sipped his wine. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Three. There’s Michael, Gabriel, me, and Anna. All witches. I had a sister named Amara that died when she was seven.” He took a drink and set his glass on the table.

“Sorry, man. That’s rough.”

“Thank you. It was hard on all of us. I didn’t see mother for a month after she passed. And then---,” he trailed off. He grabbed the bottle and filled his glass again. “Then mother died.”

Dean scooted closer to the witch when he felt a pang of sadness ripple through his chest. “That’s awful, Cas. How did she die? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Castiel shook his head and looked down at the dirt floor. “Another time,” he whispered, offering the familiar a soft smile. He leaned back against the couch and sighed heavily.

“Your siblings. What do they do?” Dean asked, hoping the change in conversation would lighten the mood.

Castiel chuckled around the rim of his glass. “Honestly, I have no idea. Gabriel is the only one that keeps in touch. Anna used to, but she got married and I haven’t heard from her in years.”

Dean felt himself moving closer to the witch. He finished his glass and reached over with a questioning look.

“You don’t need to ask, Dean. Everything here is yours now, too.”

He hesitated before pouring himself more wine. “Is that how it works with witches and familiars?”

Castiel licked his lips and Dean noticed the hint of purple on his tongue. “I would assume so. When Gabriel found Lucy he immediately let her in the castle and they shared everything. Not that--” he held up his hands, “I don’t expect you to give up your life outside of this. Just---if you need or want anything I can and will supply you with it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “So I could be a kept familiar then? Got a ton of gold laying around that no one knows about?” He chuckled and gulped down his drink. He set it on the table and blinked slowly.

“Not here. It’s mostly in the castle,” Castiel said nonchalantly.

Dean gulped. “I was kidding, Cas.”

The witch shrugged. “I have quite the substantial inheritance. Our entire family is very well off.”

Dean looked around the hut. “Then why do you live here and not in some fancy house on the top of a mountain?”

Castiel snorted. “I’ve never wanted to live like that. Michael and Anna took their money as soon as they turned sixteen and left.” He turned to Dean, his expression very serious. “Did you know I made this hut by hand? Everything in here,” he gestured vaguely. “I dug the root cellar with my bare hands and carved the wood for shelves myself.”

“It’s a nice hut, Cas,” Dean reassured him. Something was pulling inside his chest that made his heart ache.

“I worked for what I have. It wasn’t just handed to me.” The witch grabbed the bottle, forgoing his empty glass, and took a sloppy drink from it. “I try. I try and try to be a good witch, Dean. It’s hard. That’s why I left the castle. I didn’t---I never felt good enough. Michael was always so helpful in reminding me what a failure I was. I didn’t want to taint the Novak name, so I left.”

Dean was on his feet before he knew it. He walked the short distance between them and stood over the witch.

“Castiel,” he said in a stern but soft voice. The witch looked up at him with wet eyes. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I can feel how guilty you feel and it’s not necessary. You did the best you could.”

Castiel blinked slowly. Your eyes are so green, he thought. So beautiful.

Dean bit his lip. “Uh, Cas? I can hear that,” he chuckled. “Just--just so you know.”

Castiel looked down and wrung his hands together. “My apologies. I didn’t--” he cocked his head to the side. “You aren’t in your familiar form.”

Dean shrugged. “Guess it’s part of the true bond or whatever.” He raised an eyebrow. Can you hear this?

The witch smiled and thought back yes.

“No shit,” he grinned wide. “That’s pretty cool.” He sat down next to the witch and sighed. “You really shouldn’t feel bad about all that, you know. Michael sounds like an ass anyway, I wouldn’t listen to him.”

Castiel smiled and rolled his head so he was facing Dean. “That’s an understatement. When I was ten he turned my fingers into snakes for a day because he thought I ate his pudding.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”

Castiel bit his lip and smiled. Dean watched as his teeth slid across it leaving it slick and slightly redder. “I did,” he confessed with a grin. Their faces were close in this position. Castiel could see the freckles spattered over the familiars nose and cheeks. He wanted to count every single one of them. They started to flush which just made them even more beautiful.

“Cas,” Dean said in an embarrassed tone, shifting in his seat.

“I truly am sorry, Dean. I can’t seem to help myself.”

“Maybe it’s the bottle of wine you drank,” Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. I know I’m cute,” he winked.

Castiel’s heart throbbed in his chest as he stared into Dean’s eyes. There aren’t enough words in all the languages in the world that could possibly describe how gorgeous you are.

Dean blew out a deep breath and stood, holding out a hand to the witch. “Alright, man. I think it’s time we got some sleep.”

Castiel took it willingly and let himself be dragged into a standing position. He swayed lightly before Dean caught him by the elbow. “Easy there, light weight. Not a big drinker are you?” Castiel shook his head lazily. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Castiel pointed down to the couch.

“What? Seriously? You sleep on this thing?”

Dean rolled his eyes when the witch shrugged. “Ok then, looks like I’m taking the floor.” He began lowering Castiel back down to the couch when the witch gripped his arms tight.

“No. No that’s not---,” he wobbled a little before getting his footing. “You take the couch. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Shaking his head, Dean pushed the drunk witch onto the couch. “I usually sleep in my familiar form anyway. Takes up less room. The floor will be fine.”

Castiel flopped down on the couch and pulled a pillow under his head. “I’ll make you a perch tomorrow,” he muttered into the pillow.

“Yeah ok,” Dean chuckled. He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and covered the witch with it.

“G-night, Dean,” Castiel sighed as he closed his eyes.

Dean watched the witch’s chest rise and fall for a moment before situating himself on the pillows. He pulled his shirt up over his head and shoved his pants down around his ankles, glancing over at the witch. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders before closing his eyes. His bones popped and clicked as feathers sprouted from his back. His nose was quickly replaced with a beak and his arms shot out to the side as they formed into wings.

Once he was finished shifting, he nestled down into the pillows, scratching and pulling at the fabric with his talons to make it comfortable. With heavy eyelids, he watched the witch sleep until he was too tired. His eyes slipped closed and he cawed quietly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I mean can you fucking believe that guy, Charlie? Who does he think he is? He STOLE me and held me hostage in his fucking hole in the wall hut. Who steals a person? I’ll tell you who, crazy people!”

Dean threw the pillow against a stone and stomped through the forest loudly. The flowers turned away from him and the birds fled to high branches.

“And the worst thing? The absolute worst thing is he just---” he threw his hands in the air and let them fall against his bare sides, “he just expected me to stay and be his little play thing.” He spat the last few words as he kicked a pile of leaves. “I mean, Max was bad enough. This guy though?” He let out a humorless laugh and tipped his head back.

Dean, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you’re making a mistake, Charlie thought.

Dean’s nose flared as he stared at Charlie. “Excuse me?”

The orange cat sat back on her haunches and stared back. You didn’t see him when we got here. He was so protective of you. You were ill and he took care of you, no questions asked. His brother said Castiel has never been able to successfully brew anything, let alone from memory. He made a potion so fast it made Gabriel’s head spin. And guess what? It helped. You laid there on that alter for hours, Dean, and he never left your side. His heart raced every time you made a noise and petted your feathers when he knew you were uncomfortable. He took care of you Dean. What other witch has done that? Also,” the cat stood and walked up to his feet, “you asked to stay.

Dean gaped at the cat shaking his head. “No. No, I don’t believe that. I never---I’d never ask to stay with a witch.”

“It’s true.” Charlie meowed and trotted up to Sam, weaving herself in between his legs. “Dean, when I tried to leave with you Castiel freaked out. His eyes started glowing and he grabbed my wrist so hard I thought it was going to break. I told him I was taking you home and you said no.”

“I was unconscious, you fool! I didn’t know what I was saying! You should’ve killed the asshole and his idiot brother and took me home!”

“Don’t you dare pin this on me, Dean.” He walked up and poked his brother hard in the chest, glaring down at him. “I stayed as long as I could but you weren’t waking up. Whatever Castiel was doing worked and I wasn’t going to have you die in my arms on the way home!” He blinked back his tears and turned his attention to Charlie who was pawing at his pant leg.

Sighing, Dean roughly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Sam. I’m just freaking out. It’s not your fault.” He smiled weakly down at Charlie. “Sorry, I yelled, Char. Can we please just go home? I’m starving and not to mention completely fucking naked.”

Together, they turned down the path that lead home. Dean stopped abruptly and looked down at Charlie. “Wait---did you say he was petting me?!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gabriel watched as his brother continued picking shards of glass out of the dirt with a frown.

“He’ll be back, Cassie. His brother seems like a reasonable guy. He’ll talk some sense into him.”

“Reasonable? He almost slit your throat.”

“Yes, yes he did,” Gabriel wagged his finger in the air. “But! He apologized, so there’s that,” he sighed. “Cassie, can you just stop for a minute.” He walked over to his brother and dragged him into a standing position. “I know it hurts. And I know what you’re thinking: What if he never comes back and I lose my powers? What if I’m alone forever and can never brew a simple potion again? What if---”

“Gabriel. Not helping,” Castiel barked, shrugging out of his brothers hold.

“Right, sorry.” Gabriel chewed on his bottom lip. “I really think he’ll be back.”

Castiel tossed the bowl of glass into a hollowed out stump by the sink. “Have---have you ever been away from Lucy for a long period of time?”

“I mean--yeah. Not at first, but now we can be separated for short periods of time.”

“What did it feel like?” he asked, bracing his arms against a thick log counter top.

“To be honest? Hell. It felt like hell. My chest hurt and my heart raced. Even my---”

“Bones ache,” Castiel finished with a deep sigh.

Gabriel walked up behind his brother and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know. I think I need to lie down.” Castiel turned on wobbly legs, stepping around his brother. Gabriel helped lead him to the couch.

“I’m so sorry, little brother. Can make you something for the pain?” He felt his brothers forehead with the back of his fingers. “Gods, Cassie you’re freezing.”

“I don’t---” he yelled out in pain. “Gabriel it hurts so bad. It feels like I’m being ripped in half,” he gasped.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean pulled a pair of pants on and cinched them up tight as he chewed on a piece of jerky. He flopped down on his bed and sighed deeply.

“Stupid witches,” he muttered to himself around a mouthful of meat. “Who does he think he is? I would never mistreat you,” he said in a mocking tone. He stared up at the ceiling and scowled. He hated not being able to remember the time he spent in the witches hut. The thought of Castiel running his fingers through his feathers made a shiver run down his spine. “He’s a fucking stranger and he thinks he has some kind of claim on me. Not my fault he’s a shit witch and can’t brew unless a familiar is around.”

A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

“Dean, can we come in?” Sam asked through the door.

“Guess so,” Dean huffed as he sat up in bed.

The door creaked open as Sam and Charlie walked in.

“How are you feeling?” Charlie asked.

“Ok I guess,” Dean shrugged. “Good to finally see you in human form, Charlie. What’s the occasion?”

Charlie sat down on the foot of Dean’s bed and watched Sam take a seat in the corner. “I thought maybe we should have this conversation face to face,” she explained, wiping her hands nervously down her dress.

“Oh, Gods, Charlie. No. We aren’t having this---”

“Castiel is a good man, Dean,” she interrupted. “He’s a Novak. There’s no other better bloodline to be bound to.”

Sam cleared his throat.

“Except of course the Winchesters,” he added, smiling shyly at her witch. She reached out and held Dean’s hand. “Could you at least give him a shot before turning him down? He looked so broken when you left.”

Dean picked at the mattress and shook his head. “I’m not being tied down to some green witch. His own brother basically said he was a lost cause.”

“Says the bird who’s afraid of heights,” Sam interjected with a raised eyebrow.

“What? How did--I never told you that.” Dean’s eyes widened as he pulled his hand away from Charlie.

“You didn’t have to. Castiel told us,” Charlie explained. “He could feel your fear.”

“How? How could he possibly know that? I’ve never told a soul,” Dean gaped.

“He knew exactly what you needed,” Sam nodded. “Dean, I could practically taste the power rolling off the hut even before we came inside.”

“We felt it at the market first,” Charlie corrected.

“What the hell?” Dean whispered.

Charlie nodded. “We were looking for you and we passed the herbalist tent and I could just---” she shivered. “I’ve never felt that much power in my life.”

Dean wrapped an arm around his stomach. “It’s just the thought of it. Being some witches source of energy when they need more power? Letting him use me whenever he wants to? I can’t do that.” He gripped is stomach tighter as beads of sweat gathered on his hairline.

“When have you ever seen Sam do that to me? He’d never put me in harms way. We protect each other, not use.” Charlie bent her head down and caught Dean’s eye line. “Dean, are you alright?”

Sam stood from his seat and walked over to his brother. “You don’t look well.”

“I don’t feel well either,” Dean groaned, curling in on himself. “I think---fuck, Sammy something’s wrong.”