AN: This is designed to be a story that has many scenes and situations that revolve around Cas having wings. There will be continuity with each chapter, however, and I believe there will be gradual Destiel. Feedback is appreciated.


"Cas?!"

Down went the flimsy lampshade by the table. Eyes wide and an expression strangely similar to that of a domestic animal that was aware of its wrongdoings, he lowered his head in reserved shame. It didn't last long, as it was Sam's laptop that fell next.

Well, it was swooped off the table and Dean laughed, watching Sam make a dive to catch his precious laptop.

"Just. Stop moving," Sam breathed heavily, picking himself up and laptop pressed tightly to his chest.

"I am very sorry," Cas mumbled, "but it is a very small room."

Dean snorted, not seeing how that justified his clumsiness. Dean and Sam had slowly been adjusting to the things: appendages protruding from Cas' shoulder blades with raven-like feathers, large in size and at times, very difficult to manage. Dean guessed Cas was still trying to get used to the wings too, as he had trouble keeping them still at the best of times. This was one of those times.

"Why don'tcha sit down on the couch, alright?" Dean asked, but as soon as the words left his lips he instantly regretting it for Cas' wings stretched out the very moment Cas took a step. Sam narrowly dodged feathers-to-the-face and instead, his left wing crashed into the wall and the cheap, abstract art slipped off its hook, shattering into a dozen pieces on the carpet.

"I do not think sitting is a wise idea," Cas said finally, his tight lips and wide eyes a clear indication of his embarrassment.

"Yeah, got that," Dean blinked as he stifled another laugh, watching Sam slink away to the corner furthest away from Cas. Poor guy.

Cas remained rooted to the spot with his shoulders tense and fists by his sides. Dean only shook his head, unable to understand why an angel couldn't even control his own wings. He supposed, after having your wings on an alternate dimension for so long there was the possibility that Cas had forgotten how to do so. Having an extra pair of limbs to manage wouldn't be easy, especially with the size of those things.

Dean stood up, "Look, Sammy and I have been workin' a case. I'll get you seated, you can watch some TV, and we'll be back later tonight and by then, your wings will have stopped with the twitching and the flapping. How's that sound?"

Castiel nodded once and Dean approached him, wondering how he was supposed to move Castiel without being hit by a freak wing, or breaking something else that would cost them a considerable amount of money. Obviously, he only needed Cas on the edge of his bed and all would be good, but that was ten steps. Damn.

"Alright, I'm gonna hold your wings down, okay? So they'll stay folded. You gotta promise me to try and keep them in because those things look a lot stronger than I am."

Another nod. Dean sighed and stepped behind Cas, opening his hands wide to clamp the joints on both wings. It was a strange feeling, especially being able to feel the bone dig into his palms, but he ignored that and prepared for Cas to start walking. He took one step and his right wing twitched, begging to be freed but Dean kept a tight grip. The second step and both wings were twitching.

Sam watched from afar, cringing each time Cas moved in fear of the explosion of wings and feathers that could potentially knock out both him and Dean if they were hit.

Luck never lasted too long for the Winchesters. Sixth step.

The right wing pushed directly into Dean and he fell backwards, clutching his stomach as he gasped for air, "Son of a–!" The wing continued flapping and out of all possibilities, Dean received a mouthful of feathers. He spat out the taste, his face a mix of disgust, rage and I-can't-do-this-anymore.

"Dean, I am sorry," Cas said quickly, and Dean could tell he meant it. The stiff posture and desperation in his voice told him enough.

"Right." Dean picked himself up, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand, "A few more steps. Then we're done. It's not your fault, I know." Inside his head, he was actually rallying off some of his best curses and phrases that would make the angel repel him in the name of Jesus Christ. Or he'd faint from the blasphemy.

Dean took hold of the wings again, wondering if death by wings was a common occurrence. He could only image the funeral: 'My brother Dean died courageously while helping an angel sit down. This is how he would have wanted to have gone.' Hah.

He had only ever touched Cas' wings one other time. That was when Sam and Dean had seen them for the first time, and Dean couldn't keep his eyes of them. He couldn't help it. He just had to get used to their presence. He only touched them by accident, Cas being the culprit as his wings were even more uncontrollable when they were first visible. But they were incredibly soft and each feather had a different texture of their own that Dean wished he could inspect closer. He was just curious.

Cas resumed the pitiful task while Dean clutched onto both appendages, knowing if Sam wasn't such a chicken they could work together and keep Cas' wings pinned down more easily. But, Cas finally made it and he hesitantly sat on the very edge of the bed, looking very afraid that his wings would spurt out again.

"It's good, we're good." Dean said, reassuring himself more than anything else, "Sammy and I will be back soon enough. Gank some bitch ghost then grab a bite to eat. You want me to buy you a beer?" Dean asked, doing his best to comfort an angel who was clearly having a hard time adjusting to his new form.

"I am fine," he said stiffly, hands digging into his knees.

Dean shrugged and turned on the television, picking up his duffel bag from his bed. Sam finally moved from his fortress that was the corner and shuffled past Castiel, placing his laptop back onto the tabletop reluctantly. He followed Dean out and the brothers couldn't help but let out a laugh once the door was shut.

"I should feel guilty for laughin', but I ain't," Dean smirked, walking down the corridor with Sam by his side.

Sam opened his mouth in hopes of making a witty remark, only to stop abruptly as the boys heard a loud crash from the other side of the wall and a desperate wail from a struggling angel.

"I think that was your laptop."

Dean was sure Sam was holding back tears of anguish.