Chapter Text
Sam Winchester was a seasoned hunter and has tackled essentially every form of job imaginable. Not much could shake him. From spirits to demons to witches, he had encountered just about everything. In a world where the impossible was mundane, it took something truly unpredictable to rattle him.
Today was one of those unpredictable days. A majority of hunts went almost identically. They were so formulaic you could almost script them into self-contained episodes. Sam knew pretty much every trick in the book, but there weren't exactly guidelines for things like this.
The Winchester brothers had been tracking a group of teenagers who had gotten themselves entangled in hoodoo practices beyond their understanding. This was becoming more and more of a common dilemma as social media grew in popularity. People were sharing all types of witchcraft and spiritwork online- and occasionally amongst the sea of nonsense- legitimate information would be posted and the wrong people would get their hands on it. This was the 4th case they worked on this year alone involving kids finding hoodoo tutorials online.
Sam loathed these cases with a passion; they were never straightforward. Each investigation demanded the burdensome task of not only dealing with the immediate threat but also educating the involved teenagers about responsible practices in dealing with the supernatural. It was a tiresome cycle. More often than not, the teenagers would become frightened when they showed up, triggering a comical yet exhausting series of suspicious-looking chases through dimly lit streets or wooded areas where the rituals were often held. They then would have to scold the teens for their behavior, and it wasn't uncommon for them to brush off the lesson and re-offend, prompting the need for the Winchesters to show up and deal with children's irresponsibility all over again.
This time, Sam had an idea. He asked Castiel to accompany them on this case. They devised a new approach, one that aimed to set these misguided teens straight: good old-fashioned fear. Sam was tired of trying to reason with them. The plan was simple. Castiel would appear before the teens and disclose his angelic status, commanding them to stop. It was a bit of an abuse of his existence, but if instilling the literal fear of god what these kids needed to straighten up, Sam believed it was worth the questionable morals to keep them safe and alive.
Castiel sat quietly in the backseat as Dean navigated the roads, and Sam provided directions. He had reviewed the plan several times and was in agreement, especially if it meant protecting the youngsters from their own nativity.
The group consisted of a couple of high schoolers who happened to be part of the marching band, and they had been using the band room as their lair for their mischief.
Sam led Castiel through the corridors of the school while Dean waited behind in the car. Technically, this wasn't even a hunt, just a shakedown. 10 minutes tops.
“I'll stay out here," Sam remarked as they approached the entrance to the band room. “Just try to sound like an angel.”
Castiel paused, “I am an angel.” He replied with an uncertain look.
"Yeah, I know, but you know, sound like an angel. Add some grandeur. Pizzazz, you know?" Sam clarified, aware that subtlety and discretion weren't exactly Castiel's strong points.
“Pizazz” Castiel echoed, shaking his head.
"I'll be right here," Sam encouraged him.
Castiel placed his hand on the door but then hesitated, "Pizzazz," he repeated.
The door swung open abruptly, seemingly on its own, accompanied by the startled cries of the teenagers inside.
Entering the band room, Castiel was surrounded by swirling sheets of music and flickering lights with each step he took.
Sam buried his face in his hands, unable to bear watching as he heard Castiel begin, "Fear not, mortals—"
He wasn’t using his regular voice though. It was wavering in a weird manner. Sounding like a bad ghost impression a child would use while telling ghost stories around a campfire.
"I am an angel of the Lord. I come to deliver a message—" Suddenly, the flickering ceased, and the mysterious gusts of wind disappeared.
Coughing slightly, Castiel continued, now using his normal voice. Sam leaned in to observe the unfolding scene—a trio of terrified teenage girls hurling hex bags and powders at him, throwing everything they had at the unexpected intruder.
With a gentle exertion of his powers, Castiel pushed them back, causing them to scream even louder.
“Listen!” he yelled now in his normal voice. He revealed his wings and the girls all quieted themselves- too stunned to speak.
They were immense, stretching far beyond his frame. They must have spanned at least twelve feet—a breathtaking expanse of feathers, each one catching the light in a dazzling display of iridescence. As Sam looked directly at them, feelings of peace washed over him as if they were a glimpse of heaven itself.
“Hoodoo is… bad,” Castiel said as he concealed his wings again. “You must stop or horrible things will happen.”
One of the girls finally found her voice, her tone trembling with fear. "Are we... are we going to hell?" she asked.
"What?" Castiel was taken aback. "No, no. Well, maybe—" he hesitated, and the girl began to sob.
"Whether or not you go to hell is above my pay grade," Castiel continued. "But I can tell you that you're on a dangerous path. A good way to reconcile is to promise to never, ever dabble in spellwork again."
"We promise!" the girl exclaimed quickly, with the others nodding fiercely in agreement.
Castiel paused, unsure of what to do next. They hadn't discussed this part of the plan.
"Okay, well... you be good... and um- clean all this up," he said awkwardly before turning to leave, giving Sam a double thumbs-up as he passed through the doorway.
"I did good?" Castiel asked, looking somewhat proud.
"Good," Sam affirmed with a nod.
As Castiel walked out, he was still covered in a sand-like green powder.
"What did they throw at you?" Sam inquired.
Castiel shrugged in response.
"Do you think it did anything?" Sam pressed further.
Again, Castiel shrugged.
"Well, are you okay?"
Frustration was now evident on the angel's face.
"Sam, stop asking me. How would I know?" Castiel snapped, surprising Sam. It was unlike Castiel to speak so sharply.
Taken aback, Sam paused. "Are you upset?" he asked cautiously.
"No, you're just annoying me," Castiel replied without hesitation. "And I'm uncomfortable. I have powder everywhere. Like, everywhere."
Sam shot the angel a puzzled look.
"I don't know why I just said all of that," Castiel added, looking confused himself.
He turned back around and made his way back to the band room.
The girls were busy cleaning up the room, just as they were instructed. They looked startled to see the angel reappear.
"What did you throw at me?" Castiel asked, his voice stern.
The girls exchanged guilty looks. "Uhm... we don't know... everything?" one of the girls confessed.
Another chimed in nervously, "I think there might have been candium powder in some of those bags.”
Sam, who had followed Castiel back into the room, furrowed his brow and repeated, "candium powder?”
"Is that another angel?" one of the girls asked looking afraid.
"No, he's a demon hunter. Well, actually, he used to be a bit of an antichrist, you see a demon bled into his mouth when he was a child—" Castiel began to explain.
"Okay, that's enough chitchat," Sam interjected firmly, cutting off Castiel mid-sentence. He connected the dots on what the powder most likely did and quickly moved to usher Castiel out of the room again, probably leaving those girls scarred for life.
“Hah, like a real-life truth serum, huh?” Sam seemed amused as they made their way back through the halls.
Castiel did not share Sam's amusement. Instead, his expression remained solemn, almost troubled.
"Why the long face? It's not like you're hiding some enormous secret," Sam teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Castiel's concern only deepened at Sam's words, his brow furrowing with worry. Sensing the shift in mood, Sam's defenses immediately rose.
"Cas... you're not hiding something from us, are you?" Sam's tone turned serious, reflecting a hint of sudden untrusting uncertainty. The fear of betrayal swept over him.
“I’m in love with your bother,” Castiel answered immediately.
The angel's eyes widened with panic, a sight that struck Sam deeply. Despite their years of working together, Sam had always found it difficult to gauge Castiel's emotions. But this instance was different; it was evident that the angel was truly in distress, a state Sam had never witnessed before.
“Oh…” Sam was relieved that there was nothing nefarious at play. “Oh…” he said again not knowing how to process it.
“And when you say in love you mean…” Sam wanted to make sure they were on the same page.
"It's something I know I can't have. But I care for him deeply, no matter what capacity I can have him in. Of course, I care for you too, Sam. It's different though. The love I have for you is like the love for a brother," Castiel explained, his voice filled with sincerity.
"And you love Dean like—" Sam prompted him to continue.
"Like he's the air I breathe. Like he's the most amazing thing I have yet to come across in centuries of existence. Like he's the only thing I have found in this tantalizingly long life worth holding on to, no matter what," Castiel looked as though he couldn’t believe the words spilling out of his mouth.
“Well, shit.” Sam was honestly a little moved.
“And well then, of course, there’s the matter of sexual attraction-” Castiel continued.
“Okay, okay. Woah. That's enough” Sam interrupted not wanting to hear anymore.
They stood there frozen, enveloped in an awkward silence, both unsure of what to do. Sam couldn't help but feel bad for the usually stoic angel, now clearly frightened and out of his element- a need to protect him rose.
After a few moments of silence, he offered- “Okay this is what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna get back in the car. You will not say a word. You will stay silent. Do you think you can do that?”
Castiel nodded slowly.
"How'd it go?" Dean asked as the men returned to the car.
"Good. Simple. We were right—this was better than trying to reason with them," Sam replied quickly.
"Did you have fun going to high school?" Dean joked, adjusting his rearview mirror and glancing at Castiel through it.
Castiel shook his head and looked out the window with a pout.
Dean shot Sam a questioning look, and Sam mouthed, "I'll tell you later,"
Sam tried his best to act nonchalant on the car ride back to the bunker, despite the weight of the secrets being loosely held in the back of the car.
However, about halfway through the drive, something struck him. As he noticed his brother repeatedly checking the rearview mirror to glance at the angel in the back seat, a thought occurred to him: is it at all possible that this wasn’t an unrequited feeling?