How High Can You Fly With Blackened Wings?

       Castiel lay on the ground, his broken ribs taking longer than usual to heal. Uriel had punished him, much to Anna's delight. "Good, Uriel. That's very good," she had said, surveying the bruises on Castiel's body as one might survey a new house. "You did well. He deserved to be beaten."
       Uriel looked at her, his deep black eyes showing his distrust. She was his commander though, so he played the part of good soldier, fleeing the scene as quickly as possible.
       Anna kneeled down, smiling savagely as Castiel's eyes widened. "I have seen the colour of your wings." His breath caught in his throat, and her sadistic smile widened. "I know that you are not one of us. And you most certainly aren't like me."
       Castiel coughed, his face twisting at the taste of blood, making a mental note to give Uriel a beating that was equivalent to the one he had received. "I am one of you," he said defiantly, his blue eyes flashing. "But I do not wish to be like you." He was silent, staring up at Anna with hatred in his eyes before deciding to use a term Dean had taught him. "You crazy bitch."
       
       Crowley found Castiel in the warehouse hours later. Blood had slid down Castiel's face, staining the floor a disturbing crimson. His eyes were swollen shut, his ribs pressed against his chest at odd angles, and he was staining Crowley's floor.
       Crowley walked over to him, gingerly poking him with his foot. "Castiel?" The force of Crowley's foot rolled Cas onto his side, his arms hanging limp on top of his beaten torso. At the sound of Crowley's voice, one of Castiel's eyes managed to flicker open. "What happened to you?" Before Castiel could muster up enough strength to answer, Crowley frowned down at him. "Oh, that's right. I don't give a rat's ass." He turned away from Castiel. "You. Yes, you with the permanent 'who fucked me over' face. Get rid of this filth." He gestured down at Castiel with barely concealed disgust.
       "But…but he's…."
       "He's useless. Beat him if you must."
       "With pleasure."
       
       Castiel was left-now with almost every bone in his fragile vessel's body broken- outside the door of some hospital that the Winchesters had frequented. But they were not the ones to find him there.
       "Hey, that's the Winchesters' toy," Castiel could barely make out a voice over the sound of his body screaming in pain.
       "He's that reject Angel with the black wings."
       "Let's take him."
       "Yeah, I can't wait to see ole Sam and Dean's faces when they realize we've got him."
       "He is an Angel… do you think-?"
       "Naw, his wings are black, not white. He's like the black people we have here. Ugly and no one wants him."
       Castiel felt the men pick his vessel's body up, but he was too weak to fight them. And the second speaker was right. His wings were black, and they were hated by his brothers and sisters. He had often been beaten for the black feathers, though it was not his fault they were a different colour. And this human-this ignorant, smelly, more than likely stupid man- was right. With his black wings, he was ugly, and no one-Angel, demon, or human- wanted him.
       A solitary tear managed to force its way past Castiel's bruised and swollen eye as the realization that no one wanted him washed over him.
        No one…not even Dean….
       
       Castiel opened his eyes to the sound of metal scraping metal. His hands were tied over his head, and he was hanging above the floor, his vessel's body screaming out in protest. "Wha?" he mumbled, his voice feeling like sandpaper as it escaped from his parched throat.
       "Hey, Bo! He's up!"
       "Good. It's about time." The voices were those of the two men who had found him at the hospital.  "You see, you feathery piece of shit," Castiel could see his trenchcoat (the only thing that had kept his abhorrent secret hidden from the world) in a crumple heap on a dirty floor. His wings lay limp behind him, and he realized with dawning horror that these men had been tampering with them. "Sam and Dean caused this shit storm, and we figure we can use you as a bargaining tool."
       "H…how?" He jerked against his bonds, testing their strength.
       "We beat you up, you call them, they come to get you, and we only give you back if they can promise our safety." The bonds were too strong for him in this state.
       "What if….t-they don't come for me?"
       "They will." The second man-Bo- laughed.
       "You was right, Bo. He can't do nuthin."
       Castiel grimaced in pain, eyes widening as he saw Bo advancing towards him with something. "You're fucked, boy." Bo moved quick for a fat redneck, stabbing Castiel's sword through him with such speed and force that for a moment Castiel didn't notice. It wasn't until the blood-his blood- began to pour from his side that the pain registered.
       He hissed, attempting to recoil from the redneck, his bonds preventing him from doing so. "You bastard," Castiel snarled, his eyes flashing.
       "I'm glad you think so, you black-winged son of a bitch." He brutally forced Castiel's sword through his shoulder, and this time Castiel was barely able to hold back his scream of pain.
       
       "Pizza delivery," the voice from the front door cut through Castiel's haunted dreams. Bo and the other man-Jesse- were sitting, admiring the bloody handiwork they had made of Castiel.
       "I didn't order a pizza," Bo started, looking at Jesse suspiciously. "Did you?"
       Jesse looked at him, dumbfounded. "Of course I did. You told me to."
       "Oh. Then get your lazy ass up and go answer the door."
       Castiel watched as Jesse walked warily to the front door, smiling as he opened the door. He watched, stunned, as Jesse's body flew backwards, bullets tearing through his now cold body.
       "What in the-" Bo leapt up, only to be greeted by a rifle pressed into the small of his back.
       "You pissed my brother off, Bo." Sam's voice had never been so welcome to Castiel's ears. "Now, I was willing to overlook the fact that you guys had Castiel, I mean, hey, with the Apocalypse starting, we all want some sort of insurance. I get that, I really do." Sam paused, his glare turning icy. "But you sending the pictures was too much."
       "You bastards! Where is he?!" Dean's voice almost brought tears to Castiel's eyes. Almost.
       "He's in here, Dean! So's Bo."
       Dean tore through the hall, skidding to a stop in front of Cas. "Cas," his voice was deep, concerned, and doing things to Castiel that it shouldn't be doing. "Are you all right?"
       "Does it look like it?" Cas managed to cough. "Get me down."
       Dean complied readily enough, catching Castiel's battered vessel as it fell towards the ground. "Cas," Dean mumbled into Castiel's bloody hair. "Fuck, Cas, I was so worried about you."
       "Dude, save the sappy reunion scene for later. What do you want to do to his sorry ass?" Sam interrupted, pointing at Bo.
       Dean didn't turn around as he pointed his rifle at Bo's chest, and he helped Castiel up as he pulled the trigger.
       
       "Why didn't you just fly out of there?" Dean was in the back seat of the Impala, one of his arms around Castiel as Castiel let his head rest on Dean's shoulder. Sam was in the front seat, contributing the conversation if-and only if- it was absolutely necessary.
       "I was incapable. Uriel had cut my one of my wings before beating me on Anna's command."
       "Anna?" Sam deemed this interjection necessary. "Like, Dean's Anna?"
       "She's not my Anna," Dean snarled quietly.
       "Yes, that Anna." Castiel ignored Dean's comment, instead intertwining his fingers with Dean's.
       "Why?" Sam deemed this interjection just as necessary.
       "My wings."
       "What?!"
       "My wings," Castiel repeated, burying his face in Dean's shoulder.
       "But…Cas…your wings…"
       "Are black, I know." Castiel spat, shame in every inch of his feature.
       "They're beautiful, Cas." Dean's voice was soft, and he let the hand that wasn't in Cas's move to his hair, gently massaging Cas's scalp.
       "You…you think this is true?"
       "I…well, I…uh…"
        "Oh, shut up and kiss already."This was the most important interjection Sam would make all night.
       Dean flushed, unable to look away from Castiel's battered face. "Would you mind if I…ya' know…kissed you?"
       Castiel cocked his head, before moving up, one of hands on Dean's chest, the other in Dean's hand. His lips pressed against Dean's softly, his tongue exploring the Hunter's mouth, before sliding in between Dean's teeth.
       "I'd take that as a no." Sam spoke to no one in particular, looking up into the rearview mirror. His brother had pulled Castiel on top of him, on hand resting on his neck, the other in between the base of Castiel's wings. Castiel-sensing Sam's eyes on them- furled his wings so that they were shielded from Sam's view. "I don't think he'll mind at all."