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Castiel felt the urge to weep bubble up in his chest.
Castiel doesn’t weep, has never wept.
But he felt his throat constrict around itself, he felt a cold sweat break out across his entire body as he stared in horror at Dean.
“Cas, please, say something. Anything.”
Instead, Cas reached out with shaking hands to touch Dean’s shoulders, it was meant to be comforting, but instead, Cas used Dean to keep himself upright.
Dean was an angel.
“I don’t understand man, I thought you’d be happy.” Dean grabbed Cas’ wrists and brought his arms down to his sides.
Cas stifled a full-body shudder and brought his cool gaze on Dean. “I wouldn’t wish being an angel on anyone,” he paused, reconsidering what he was going to say next, “Especially not my dearest friend.”
Dean sighed and brought a hand up to rub his eyes. He looked surprisingly tired for someone who had been filled with grace, power, and eternal life. Castiel worried that he’d been too personal, too close. It had only been a few weeks since Cas told Dean he loved him. Sam and Dean were told that Castiel’s spirit was restored, but that there was no vessel available to him on Earth. Cas had resigned himself to not seeing the Winchesters for another half century until they joined him in Heaven.
But here Dean was, his spirit was, interestingly, still very human, just adapted with angel hardware.
“What are you doing here, Dean? What happened?” Cas counted Dean’s breath instead of his own, and felt the thrum of his heartbeat against his ribs. No human had ever become an angel, he hadn’t even known it was possible.
“Jack said I was needed up in Heaven. Not that he gave me any details.”
Although Dean was now an angel, Cas still had serious doubts about his ability to comprehend the various dimensions and planes of existence that angels exist in, so he presented himself as his vessel for now.
Dean looked around and the endless white expanse surrounding them, staring in awe. Dean jerked, his head whipping from side-to-side. To Cas’ surprise, he found himself smiling.
“So I’m tuned into angel radio now, huh?”
“It seems like it.”
To Cas’ relief, Dean was still himself. He had seen many befall the curse of power; trading dignity and honor for hollow victories. Dean was so many things, power hungry was not one of them. Sam had that well covered.
As Castiel studied Dean, he noticed a few things: Dean had slightly widened his stance and staggered his feet- steadying himself against impact, checking his periphery- watching guard for an attack in his blind spots, clenched his fists tight- ready to hit something.
Cas took a deep breath, setting all his racing thoughts to the side. They could wait. He tugged Dean’s one remaining hand in his (to his shock), “Let’s go somewhere a little less public.”
Dean immediately stiffened, clearly not yet able to sense his surroundings in Heaven. Many angels were observing them, whispering to each other. Dean Winchester was the talk of the century, and now here he was among them, but certainly not one of them. He was the first outsider angel. Castiel was certainly not well-liked by his brethren, but he knew their ways and shared their history.
Suddenly, they appeared in Eden. Dean turned to Cas with amusement, “I thought the garden of Eden was on Earth?”
Castiel cleared his throat, “We um… took it back after Adam and Eve were cast out. It’s an oft forgotten place by celestial beings. Most don’t have an appreciation for the wonders of nature.”
“Oh, are you a stop and smell the roses kind of guy?” Dean ribbed.
He tilted his head surveying his charge, “Have you ever wondered why I am the angel of Thursday, Dean?”
Dean smirked back, “Because you got the short straw?”
"On the fourth day, God created the sun, the moon, and the stars." Castiel's gaze drifted upward. “The stars were the first thing I ever loved.”
Dean shuffled in place, seeming to have no quip to respond with. He quickly dropped Cas’ hand when he realized they were still holding onto each other.
Cas took a few steps backwards, “Dean, I want to show you something.”
He took a deep breath, feeling shockingly nervous, and unfurled his wings for Dean. They were no longer an intimidating shadow. He gave them a soft shake, stretching out to their full length. His black feathers in the light of Eden showed in deep purples, greens, and blues. Cas looked down, studying the grass.
“Castiel,” Dean breathed out, causing Cas’ head to shoot back up. Dean never calls him by his full name.
“They’re beautiful,” Dean's face was one of awe, “do- do I have a pair?”
“Yes you do.”
Dean breathed in and shut his eyes, focusing on the intangible. Sandy golden wings came out with little speaks of white spread throughout, not unlike a fawn's coat, Cas thought absently. He quickly realized that Dean would not particularly like that comparison.
“Aw man, what the hell! Why are mine so small?” Dean snapped, causing Cas to break out into raucous laughter.
“You’re a fledgling Dean, they’ll grow in.”