Sam and Dean were eager to have an hour-long shower after finding out that invisible unicorn men walked among them. Their eyes still felt assaulted long after they left Sam's childhood imaginary friend behind, and to top it off, neither brother could get the idea of an unknowing woman covered in unicorn-man blood out of their heads. Or kids swimming in water tainted by the death of a mermaid. These things were never mentioned, as is usual in the Impala.

Though both had cleaned themselves up that evening and emptied the liquor cabinet, they'd quite literally not seen the end of it. They thought they had, and on the other hand, they knew that wasn't possible. It was never that simple in the Winchester world.

However, they'd helped the Zanna, and nothing had changed upon their return quite yet. There weren't any kids within miles, and it was probably better that way. Dean was given time to brood over their childhood; about how he and John would always go on hunts, leaving a young and defenseless Sam behind for days on end. It would have been a relief back then knowing that there really was someone looking out for his little brother. It was supposed to be Dean's job, but he couldn't always be there.

That lingering thought caused his eyes to dart over to where Sam was hunched above his laptop, deep in thought about some nerd topic or other. No matter how old they got, few things changed. Especially that the brothers had a tendency to hide things from one another- and for Sam, he was hiding the idea of talking with Lucifer.

Maybe Sam should have feared Lucifer more. He wasn't entirely sure, since he couldn't recall a single thing from the Cage. Dean probably knew more than he did about the tortures he must have endured after Cas had taken on Sam's memories. He remembered freaking out for weeks, surviving off random water bottles and PTSD. But he couldn't remember what exactly had caused him to freak out. It was weird, and it would probably always nag at him when he thought of it.

Though, it hurt more to think of the way it had broken Cas. He'd taken it better than Sam, but… he hadn't deserved such a burden. He wondered if the angel still experienced Sam's flashbacks years later, and if Sam would fear Lucifer more or less if he could have handled everything. On one hand, PTSD. On the other, there wouldn't be much the Devil could throw at him that he hasn't already. If the latter option had been true, it might've been the only comforting thought Sam felt in relation to this new plan. He knew it was stupid, but who was he to deny God?

A guitar riff split the air. Their pair of eyes met before Dean held the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Dean," came the gravelly voice. It almost never changed from the gruff and curt way the angel had become accustomed to speaking in. With Dean, however, there were always exceptions. "I'm wondering if you wanted something before I returned to the bunker. Was the hunt successful?"

The elder Winchester rubbed the bridge of his nose, if only to hide a tired smirk. "Yeah, everything's good. A double bacon cheeseburger would be great right about now."

Sam looked up like an expectant puppy at Dean's mild tone and reference to food.

"Oh, and a greek salad or something for Mr. Vegan."

"I expect to be there momentarily."

OOO

It was just as quiet and uneventful as it had been in the bunker for the last hour or so when Castiel hauled open the huge front door. The angel was toting a paper bag and managed to place it on the table in the main room before he noticed the odd looks he'd been receiving. "Is something wrong?"

Sam and Dean shared a glance. While the first averted his gaze, Dean looked up and past Cas- or so it seemed. When the angel looked behind him, he couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary.

Dean silently compared the moment to his last hours on Earth, before he was sent to Hell for a few months. The memories had faded at this point, but he'd been able to see the demons for what they were as he was slowly crossing over, just as Cas is able to see the true faces of angels, demons, and even leviathans. Apparently, the Zanna had some tricks up their sleeves as well.

"Your wings," Dean commented when Cas had turned back to look at the brothers.

Castiel nodded, then allowed the confused expression to return. "I've always had wings."

When Dean thought wings, he thought big, fluffy, overly feathery wings. The silhouette Cas had created for himself when they first met had fed into that assumption. Even Sam hadn't truly considered the implications of falling from Heaven and being unable to fly. And now, caught wondering how it hadn't even crossed their minds, neither brother knew how to approach the situation.

"Cas…" Sam tried, "They look awful."

What remained of the burnt bones shriveled in on themselves a tad. "They used to be better." His tiny smile made it seem like that was his best attempt at comedy on the matter.

"This is what Metatron did to you?" Dean's voice betrayed the protective brotherly role he couldn't help but play.

"This is what happened to all angels when Metatron cast them out. I'm not the only one, and it was my fault to begin with." He stood in the spotlight for another awkward moment before motioning to the takeout bag. "You should both eat."

Dean reached out to find his burger, but stopped Cas as he began walking away. "Those look like they hurt."

As the fallen angel turned his wings moved aside naturally, though they would have been able to see his face nonetheless. All that was left was charred bones. "They… didn't burn for long. I haven't felt anything since then." It was mostly the truth. They weren't truly in the physical plane, and didn't affect anything except for his location. He rarely felt a light breeze sift through the minuscule holes in the bones, where feathers should have laid. Without muscle, the only thing that moved the wings were his shoulder blades and remaining grace. They would almost fade away sometimes as he used up stolen grace.

"How could you just ignore them?" Sam pressed. "They're a part of you."

"Yes, but I have a car. I don't require them."

Dean snickered. "That's like saying I don't need legs if I have a wheelchair. Bobby could only keep those complaints down for so long."

"Dean, I can assure you-"

He stood up, burger still unwrapped. "You let Metatron go… without doing anything. How the hell is that possible, man?"

"A better question may be how you can see my wings. You know angelic forms are dangerous to humans."

Sam crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "The Zanna gave us a temporary thing."

Castiel's eyebrows pinched together. "I'm not familiar with the Zanna."

Dean stuck an arm out, immediately preventing Sam from whatever he was about to say- which would probably have been hours worth of research on children's imaginary friends. "Metatron should have been dead as soon as you found him, Cas."

"He's pitiful. A human. I already told you that he can hardly find something to eat, let alone pose a threat to anyone."

"He made the angels even more agitated than before. And for good reason, too." He waved his hands towards Cas' wings.

"Dean, the world is full of surprises. He could be useful yet. I chose to have mercy because it is the right thing to do."

When his brother hesitated, Sam cut in. "We should have seen his true colors. Besides, he's not worth our time while Amara's still alive. Why don't we just get some sleep tonight, and we'll deal with Metatron- if we ever see him again."

Dean finished his beer and brought the burger to his bedroom. Sam, out of politeness, decided to eat in the main area. Castiel eventually found Dean brooding on his bed. He stood by the slightly open door, thinking of things he could say. Ways of saying them.

"Alright, playboy." Dean finally sat up and took off his headphones. "Whaduya want?"

Cas immediately opened his mouth, hoping something would come out before Dean decided to put his headphones back on or close his bedroom door. "I just… wanted to tell you…. Both you and Sam have lost so much, and so many good people. Please don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

The elder Winchester sighed. "None of us are fine, but I get what you mean."

Castiel stood there for another minute before nodding and leaving, because he wasn't sure what the next proper course of action was. It was a common theme with him.