Castiel and Snow

250 Words

(Drat! It was supposed to be non-angst! Nothing can be as fluffy as snow.)

Disclaimer: Not Mine

Spoilers: Season 4ish

Rating: Kid friendly


The third snowball hit Castiel directly in the chest. The angel merely sighed and wiped it away. Dean was trying to provoke him as he had Samuel. Dean and his brother were chasing each other through the cemetery, taking advantage of a late Michigan blizzard. Castiel watched with warrior eyes and knew that Dean had deliberately aimed for Castiel's chest and not his face. The same arm that could errorlessly throw a knife, and had just landed a snowball in Samuel's face, had not missed. Dean had offered a small mercy in his teasing. Castiel offered his own small mercy by not speaking of a dire future and letting the brothers laugh for a few minutes more.

Samuel tackled Dean and the two wrestled in the wet, heavy snow. They avoided two weather worn headstones without fanfare and played under a tree. The weight of the snow on the budding leaves threatened to break the branches.

A small wind- or the single flap of invisible angel's wings- and the tree would gratefully release its burden.


Dean immerged from the blanket of snow with the same love of life that had buried him. Samuel glanced suspiciously from the tree to the angel. Castiel never changed his expression.

Dean waited until Samuel was out of earshot and nudged Castiel with his elbow. "Next time I start a snowball fight, I'll do it away from trees so you have throw the snow yourself and not make a plant do your dirty work."