Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. Yet. But let me fetch a box with my photo and bury it on the crossroad and maybe...


There was nothing wrong with Sam. Of course not. He was perfectly healthy, as handsome as always and his cheesiness could rival Dean's on his best days.

Apart from the fact that overnight he sprouted a pair of huge, black feathered wings.

But otherwise he was perfectly normal. At least that's what Dean was trying to conivnce himself of. Not really succeeding, though. There was something off about his brother. It was as if with wings came a fair dose of self-confidence and optimism.

Sam sat on the comfy armchair in Bobby's living room. His legs resting on the pile of papers on the old coffee table, a small smile gracing his lips while he was watching some terrible tv-show. His wings stretched out beside him, black feathers fluttering slightly.

As cute as Sam was right now, Dean wanted answers. And then, if everything is all right, he will have his way with his younger brother.


The answers came on the next day when Castiel decided to show up. Shocked silent at the first sight of younger Winchester, he soon found a reasonable explanation.

Or, at least, reasonable to him.


"A fallen angel? You've got to be kidding me! I thought people cannot become angels!" Dean's shouts echoed through the room, making the angel wince slightly.

"People can't. But, as you might have noticed, your brother is not exactly one hundred percent human, either."

"Oh," He sighed. "So what happens now?"

"Nothing. As far as I know, you can't really change him back." Castiel's indifferent face was definitely irritating.

"Okay," Dean said carefully considering his choice of words. "Can we at least hide this?"

"With what? A velvet curtain?" Castiel snarled. "As poetic as it is, I don't think it would be of much help, Dean."

"So I have to keep him hidden?" He felt tired at the mere thought.

"Not necessarily, you might just pretend he's the salesman of some kind, I saw one guy dressed like an angel recently. Or at least he assumed he looked like one, while in reality he beared the resemblance to the really messed up canary."

"Spare me the details, please."

"Sure. I'll make my leave, then," He went to the door but turned around before stepping out. "You might want to know something else."

"Oh, great, what now?" He really didn't want to know, did he?

"Your brother may have some unusual... cravings from time to time. Suffice to say, they will be rather permanent."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Castiel made a face.

"Well, one guy-turned-angel I knew used to eat every meal with a garlic sauce. The other one I heard of slept under a pile of newspapers. Why? I have no idea."



"Sam, you planning on eating something?" Dean showed up in their room

Sam looked up from his laptop. He saw that Dean eyed his new wallpaper with a chained dark angel kneeling on the bloodied floor.

"You know, it's quite emo," Dean whined only to complain a little.

Sam seemed surprised. "And what's wrong with emo?"

"Eee... nothing, nevermind. So you wanna something, or not?"

"Sure, give me whatever you want."

"You sure? Nothing specific you want?"

You. Sam thought but opted for keeping it to himself.

"Nope. Anything's fine."

Dean shrugged and went to retrieve some burgers, while Sam was doing a really bad job convincing himself that he was not eyeing his brother's ass.