AN: written for spn_30_snapshots
~ Pie & Fly ~
It was something the Angel had wanted to offer Dean for quite some time now but with the recent events he wasn't sure how much longer he would still be able to. Each passing day he lost a bit more of his powers, each day his Grace grew weaker, each day he became a bit less Angel and more human.
"Dean, do you want to fly with me?"
The older Winchester regarded his friend as if Castiel had just stated he needed Dean to give away the impala. The Angel frowned in confusion as the hunter declined frantically with some random excuse. Somehow he felt very disappointed.
A few minutes later as he was alone with Sam the young man explained with a smile of genuine excuse: "Sorry, Dean's just afraid of flying per se."
"Cas, you know, it really would be easier if you'd eat something. You wouldn't have to waste your precious Grace on sustaining your vessel."
But instead of answering the Angel just vanished as so often.
Although Castiel knew the Winchesters were right, although he had to admit the day he would no longer have the choice to decline was already near, although the possibility to actually taste one of those gloriously smelling pies made his vessel's mouth water he still was too afraid. Human digestion and excremation was... humiliating, disgusting, gross.
"Dean, Castiel, how about a deal." The young man smiled like the Cheshire Cat - a smile both Angel and hunter had learned to dread. "You, Cas, let Dean take you to a diner and try a few bites of food. And therefore you, Dean, let Castiel take you to a scenic flight."
"Or...?" Dean asked although he was kind of afraid to hear the answer.
"Or I'll try my best to make your next days anything from easy." The smile even grew at these words, tinted with a wicked promise. "Just think about it. I'll take a shower and await your decision afterwards."
Dean knew what his brother's threat had implied. He was not exactly keen on Sam being even more annoying than usually. All his shirts replaced by pink polos? Every one of his tapes gone and only a single one with Celine Dion's howling left? Sam could be really inventive if he wanted to bother Dean.
"Cas, I'm afraid we don't have a choice..."
The Angel sighed deeply - such a human gesture it made Dean's heart ache.
"There's a small diner down the road. I need something first before we... take off..."
Again Castiel sighed. Nevertheless he followed his friend as Dean picked up his purse and left the room.
The diner was a small but tidy family run business. Bold white letters stated "Fries & Pies" on one of the windows reflecting the ice blue winter sky. Castiel looked up. Small white clouds dotted the intense blue. The sun was shining brightly although the air was still freezing cold. A wonderful weather to fly. He could feel the familiar yearning, his wings twitching in anticipation. A few more minutes... A year ago time hadn't mattered at all. Castiel was a being without beginning or end. He would live forevermore - or until he would fall in battle and dissolve into nothing. But now... He could slowly feel his days becoming finite, each passing second brought him nearer to the point where he wouldn't be able to use his Grace anymore. Suddenly just a few more minutes seemed way too long.
The clattering of dishes pulled the Angel out of his musings. Seemingly on autopilot - one of many of Dean's expressions he had started to use - he had followed his friend to a table. Obviously the hunter had already ordered, too, as there now was a glass of dark liquid and a plate with a still steaming slice of apple pie in front of the Angel.
"I've thought we'd stick to the classics first. Root beer and apple pie." Dean was grinning with joy - if Castiel had even assumed it would make the hunter that happy the Angel would have tried eating long ago - despite the problem of depositing the waste afterwards.
The pie was great, just as Dean had always claimed. Sweet and sour likewise, soft apples, crunchy crust, fluffy cream and a hint of spices. The Angel decided instantly that he liked pie.
The root beer too was better than expected. A fizzling and sweet, malty tasting liquid that went down his throat with an invigorating tingle. Castiel emptied his glass in one go.
Apparently eating and drinking wasn't that bad. The amazing taste made up for the unfamiliar experience of the different textures sliding down his throat. Castiel had just decided to join the brothers the next time they had dinner as he noticed an unpleasant pressure building inside his stomach. It was bordering on pain - was he going to vomit?
It took Dean some time to notice the lack of movement from Castiel's side. He looked up from the meager remains of his cherry pie and noticed not only had the Angel seemingly stopped eating after half of his slice but he was now sitting with a deep frown and one hand pressed to his abdomen.
"Cas? Ya ok?"
The Angel opened his mouth to answer and Dean really didn't jerk. It was perhaps a tiny flinch. But the volume of Castiel's burp took both of them by surprise. Dean watched in astonishment as his friend clapped a hand over his mouth and looked at him with pleading eyes, mumbling something like an excuse under his breath. Dean knew he should take the Angel seriously - just, the hunter simply couldn't. He was too busy erupting in loud laughter. He'd never thought he would see Castiel actually blushing, but he'd never thought he'd ever hear an honest-to-god Angel of the Lord belching like some average redneck, either.
Castiel felt better after his embarrassingly public display of lack of self control - or more precise lack of control over his vessel.
"Next time we'll better get something non-carbonated for you," Dean suggested still grinning.
The Angel agreed mutely stifling another burp.
The sun was still shining brightly as they left the small diner. Castiel felt the pulling sensation of anticipation inside his stomach and knew he could not wait much longer. The Angel used his Grace to alter the perception of all human beings in their vicinity except Dean while turning to face the hunter.
"Dean. I want you to remember one thing: I will not let you fall. "
The hunter nodded trying to suppress the fear that was threatening to grip him tight. Castiel turned him around so Dean's back was pressed onto the Angel's stomach. He felt strong arms being wrapped around his torso and heard the familiar rusting of feathers behind his back. In front of them the hunter could watch as two huge shadows of august wings unfolded from Castiel's back and stretched majestically, easily covering three meters each. He felt himself being yanked high in the air, a sudden gust of wind blowing icy air onto his face and out of instinct he clenched his eyes shut. It took Dean easily half a minute before he dared to take a glimpse again - he could no longer feel the concrete under his boots, he could hear the rhythmic beating of strong wings, he felt... he felt how they were flying. Really flying and as he opened one eye for a moment he saw that they were very high above the ground. Perhaps now was a good time to freak out?
"Dean. I will not let you come to harm. You can open your eyes, you are save."
It took every bit of self control the hunter had to finally oblige. They were high enough for him to no longer being able to distinguish the different types of cars that were driving under them. Castiel was currently following the highway leading south towards the next town with a speed that made the tiny vehicles look like they weren't moving. At all. Dean knew he actually shouldn't even be able to open his eyes. There was nowhere near the level of headwind this speed should produce. Angel mojo.
"Hey, Cas, how does... are you wings... I mean..." Dean wasn't sure how to word his question.
"We both are invisible, Dean. Nobody is able to perceive us."
"And if I turned around? How do your wings look like? Or are you just... you know, Jimmy hanging in the air?"
"I would not advise turning around."
Dean had not realized the Angel had changed directions at some point until he noticed the small diner appearing in front of them. Castiel slowed down enough to fly a small circle above the building before they suddenly stalled out and the ground was rapidly approaching - or they were... Damn! They were crashing!
The hunter heard himself yelling Castiel's name while frantically clinging to the Angel's arms - somewhere deep inside he knew that holding on to his friend would not prevent them from hitting the ground violently but Dean was on the verge of panic, instinct taking over and said instinct told him not only to close his eyes so he no longer could see them plummeting down towards the ground but to keep clinging to the Angel at any cost. The unpleasant feeling of free fall inside his intestines, his eardrums popping, and suddenly quiet. No more wind. A solid ground under his boots.
Dean blinked cautiously, still gripping Castiel tight. They were in front of the small diner again. Just as if their little trip never had happened. The hunter was glad his friend still had his arms wrapped around him because right now the Winchester's legs were made of jelly.
"You screaked, " the Angel stated with a hint of confusion - or amusement?
"I...," Dean swallowed, tried to force his voice to operate normal again. Still his words were hoarse and shaking. "I might have panicked a bit."
"We were just touching down."
"I might need to visit the toilet."
AN2: I am auctioning off a story at the LJ community help_haiti. There are many other great authors you can bid on there also! Just head over to the community (or my LJ if you don't have the link) and not only donate for a good cause but get a fine reward, too!