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"Hello, Dean."

Dean Winchester glanced up from the Colt and into the deep blue eyes of the angel Castiel, nearly dropping the gun when he realized the angel was standing less than a foot away from him. He gripped the butt of the pistol and tucked it into his belt, steadying himself before speaking.

"Cas, you scared me. What do you want?"

Castiel smiled, a rare occurence that made Dean's jaw drop. "I've got something to tell you, Dean, something that might make you very happy."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Your brother's powers are gone."

Dean paused for a moment. He knew well of his brother Sam's powers, given to him by Azazel when the demon fed Sam his blood. He had visions, could sense spirits, and was telekinetic. He also knew that if Sam couldn't drink demon blood, he'd get weaker and hurt himself. Is Cas serious? Dean wondered.

"Of course I'm serious," Castiel said, cocking his head to the side. "Dean, there's also bad news with the good news, as you know there always is."

"At least it is with me," Dean muttered.

Castiel smiled again, and Dean's heart tripped. "Sam was confused as to why he lost his abilities. When he ran across a demon named Asher, he made the mistake of mentioning it. Asher knows you, he knows your brother, and despite being removed from the dealings of most demons, he knows of me. He's decided to kidnap Sam to lure us to his den. Dean, he wants the Colt, and he wants to kill all of us."

"But he can't kill you," Dean said automatically, then backtracked. "Oh, wait. He wants the Colt to kill you?"

"Yes." Castiel frowned for a moment, then took a step closer to Dean. "I can't fight him on my own."

Dean sighed. If Cas can't fight him, what makes him think I can? "Right. So how strong is this Asher guy anyway? Worse than Lilith?"

"Asher is a special demon, a cross-bred between two demons, one as powerful as Azazel and one as powerful as Lilith. His eyes are golden, and he bears one of the Marks of Power on his temple." Castiel glanced over his shoulder uneasily, something so human Dean found himself confused as to why the angel would be doing it.

"What's a Mark of Power?" Dean rested his hand on the Colt.

"A Mark of Power is a demonic symbol the original twelve demons and Lucifer wear, but I suppose their spawn must wear them as well. Asher's is a silver flame. When it turns black, he's at his most powerful stage and could easily slaughter the entire human population on this planet. The twelve demons are in hell, as they don't desire to take corporeal forms, but Asher chose to when he was very young. He possesses when the host is young and lives out its years, then jumps to another host. Sam would be the appropriate age for Asher to possess." Castiel's brow furrowed. "I'll do everything I can to save Sam, Dean, but I don't want to die."

Dean nodded, feeling a sudden urge to embrace the angel. "I won't let Asher hurt you, Cas." Fuck, that came out wrong. "Well, I mean, I won't let him kill you. I'll put myself in front of the Colt if it comes to that."

Castiel nodded. "Thank you." His eyes flickered around the hotel room. "Is there anywhere we can go that's more secluded?"

"Yeah. Come on, I just need to pay for the room and we can leave." Dean pulled his shirt over the Colt so it couldn't be seen, then noticed Castiel looking out the window. "What is it?"

"There are demons milling around your car, and I'm not letting you confront them." Castiel shot him a gentle look. "You're not going back to hell, Colt or not. Come on, we're flying."

"What?" Dean asked, his eyes widening. Flying?

"Yes, flying. Remember, I have wings." Castiel shed his coat and shirt, then held his arms out to Dean.

Dean checked to make sure the Colt was secure and stepped into Castiel's arms, watching as a pair of wings unfurled from his back. They were huge, the tops a couple inches over Castiel's head, the long flight feathers resting on the floor. They were soft shades of creamy ivory, silvery gray, and amber gold. Unable to stop himself, Dean reached out and brushed his fingers along one feather, marveling at how warm and silky it was.

"They're beautiful," he whispered. "You have to have the most beautiful wings in heaven."

Castiel laughed without humor and helped Dean step out of the window, balancing precariously one the ledge. Dean looked down and saw a group of people around his car, and when they looked up, he could make out their black eyes. But before he could stop to think about them, there was a sudden rustling and a gust of wind, and he and Castiel were in the air.

Dean tightened his hold on the angel and gasped as the rush of wind against his body as Castiel's powerful wings carried them over the trees, over the streets. The moon shone fully on them, and when he looked at the angel, he saw an oddly blissful look on Castiel's face, a look of pure peace and obvious joy. Cas's wings were nearly glowing in the moonlight, flowing gracefully through the air, making the quietest beating noises, blowing soft breezes in Dean's face. For a moment, Dean was somewhere else, somewhere dark and quiet, his hands stroking down Castiel's soft feathers . . .

"Perfect," Castiel whispered, breaking Dean out of his dream.

The hunter looked down to see a clearing in the middle of a forest. He sighed. It always had to be an abandoned barn, or a forest clearing. It could never be somewhere public, somewhere a demon would choose not to cause a scene.

Castiel landed effortlessly, letting go of Dean as soon as they touched down. Dean subconsciously checked the Colt, then looked at Castiel, realizing that the angel was shirtless and his clothes were back at the motel. Cas wrapped his wings around himself, and Dean caught sight of tears trickling down his cheeks.

"Cas, what's wrong?" he asked, reaching out to find the part in the wings so he could see Castiel.

"No, nothing," Castiel said, glancing at Dean from under sooty lashes. He wiped at his eyes, forced a smile. "We have your brother to save, Dean. Aren't you even a bit concerned about that?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "So, what, are we walking?"

"For now," Cas replied. He folded his wings behind his back and started into the trees.

Dean followed, pulling out his iPod and flipping through the songs until he found the one he was looking for. He leveled with Cas and held out one of the earphones. "Wanna listen?"

Castiel considered, then nodded. Dean let him put it in, put the other in his own ear, and found the perfect song to sing. "Tell my mother, tell my father I've done the best I can to make them realize this is my life. I hope they understand. I'm not angry. I'm just saying sometimes goodbye is a second chance."

Cas glanced over at him. "Sometimes it is, you know."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'm living proof, right? I've been to hell and back, and they call dying saying goodbye."

"Very true," Castiel said, "but I was speaking more in the terms of human relationships. You spoke of Cassie, and you and she said goodbye. But now you have another chance to love another, to have another love you."

The hunter paused, gazing at the angel for a long, tense moment. "Yeah. But the question is, who would want to love Dean Winchester?"

Cas smiled. "I believe I know somebody."