AN: This oneshot takes place in a random motel. For the sake of the story, we're pretending that Balthazar is still alive. Also, I might have based this oneshot off of a Tumblr post.

Dean woke up with a start, and immediately looked around for Sam. Finding him nowhere in sight, Dean got out of bed and called, "Sam?" Receiving no answer, he reached for the gun he kept underneath his pillow and walked through the motel room cautiously. "Sam? Sammy?"

Dean found a note on the counter, addressed to him in Sam's horrific handwriting.

On a food run. Back in two shakes. Yes, I'm getting your pie.

Relaxed now, Dean put the gun back underneath his pillow, carelessly discarding the note somewhere and rummaging around in the fridge for a beer.

Before he found one, Dean heard a flutter of wings behind him. Thinking it was Castiel coming to bear some sort of news, he turned quickly, only to see Balthazar's lean figure perched on the back of the couch, smoking a cigar.

"What do you want?" Dean asked, immediately wary of Balthazar's intentions. "Now, now, is that any way to greet the angel who's going to give you the gift of your lifetime?" Balthazar replied in his lilting English accent. Dean raised his eyebrows, finally finding his beer and cracking it open before turning back to Balthazar. "What?"

"Ah, confusion. Well, I mustn't do too much explaining." Balthazar winked. "That would just ruin the surprise, now wouldn't it?" "What? What surprise?" Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. "What the hell are you talking about?" Balthazar got up from his position on the couch, the cigar balanced perfectly between his fingers. "Patience, grasshopper. You'll see." With that, Balthazar flew away.

"Freaking angels!" Dean exclaimed, taking a drink of his beer. As he stared at the place Balthazar had stood a moment ago, he noticed that Balthazar had left behind glasses of some sort. They were black and tinted and looked like some odd type of sunglasses.

Dean considered it for only a moment before slipping the glasses on his face. Instantly, his entire perception was completely changed.

Everything looked darker, but it wasn't just that. He could make out a feather or two from Balthazar's wings dropped on the floor. That was strange. Dean had never been able to see any angel's wings before, fancy glasses or not.

Seconds later, Dean heard a fluttering of wings from the opposite side of the room. Hoping it was Balthazar to explain what the hell was happening, he quickly turned toward the sound. To his surprise, it was not Balthazar who stood before him, but Castiel.

Secretly, Dean took a moment to admire his angel. That tilted-head look that said he was confused, those soft, perfectly kissable lips, and his eyes - oh, his eyes, that mesmerizing shade of electric blue.

"Cas?" Dean asked, walking closer. Suddenly in awe of the angel before him, Dean stopped right in front of Castiel to study him. With the magic glasses on, Dean could see Castiel's wings perfectly.

They were huge and black and stretched farther than Castiel's vessel could ever extend itself to. The wings were damaged and torn, feathers ripped out here and there. They were stained with the blood of Castiel's friends and enemies, and weathered with age and use.

They were absolutely beautiful.

"Dean?" Castiel said, snapping Dean out of his trance. "Dean, are you alright?" "Yeah," Dean replied. "Uh, yeah, yeah Cas, I'm fine. Why are you here?" "I thought..." Castiel stopped for a minute. "I thought you needed to see me?"

Dean drew his eyebrows together in confusion. "Why would you think that?" Castiel tilted his head in his adorable way. "I received word from a friend that you had something of grave importance to tell me." "What? Who.." Dean trailed off.

Balthazar.

That dick.

Dean chuckled slightly in spite of himself. "I don't think that message was the truth, Cas." Castiel still didn't understand, but he nodded anyway. He stood there awkwardly, wondering whether to fly off or sit and make small talk with Dean.

Turning his attention back to Castiel's wings, Dean reached a hand out and touched them. The soft, feathery texture slipped beneath his fingertips easily and brought a much-needed smile to the awestruck hunter's face.

As soon as Dean's hands touched the feathers of his wings, Castiel flinched. "Ah, fuck, did that hurt, Cas?" Dean asked worriedly. Castiel shook his head silently. "No...I just...Dean, how are you able to see my wings?"

"It's these glasses," Dean said, tapping the rims of the magic glasses that Balthazar had left behind. "Where did you get those?" Castiel asked, paling slightly. "Balthazar was here earlier, and left them behind for me, I'm assuming, for some reason." Castiel sighed and dropped into a chair. "No one is supposed to have those outside of Heaven's gates."

"Oh," Dean muttered, battling with himself. He rather enjoyed being able to see Castiel's wings, but he hated the angst it caused his blue-eyed angel. Dean could sense that there was something more going on than just magical glasses from Heaven being used in the regular world. Something was bothering his angel.

Dean sat down in a chair beside Castiel and looked him in the eyes as much as he could. "Cas, what's wrong? I know something's wrong." Castiel looked up at him, his electric blue eyes piercing through Dean. Castiel brushed his own wings with his hand softly, and there was something so sad about the gesture that Dean felt his heart aching for his angel.

"You can go ahead and say it, Dean. I know they're ugly. I'm...I'm sorry you had to see them."

Dean looked at Castiel, astonished. Determined to make Castiel feel better about his wings, Dean moved his chair so that he was in front of Cas, and gently pulled him into a tight hug.

After a few seconds, Dean lifted Castiel from his chair and placed him on his lap. Cas leaned against Dean's broad chest. Dean pulled him even closer, and brushed his hand gently across Castiel's damaged and worn down wings. Cas didn't say anything, but Dean could tell that he felt the touch, because his entire body relaxed into Dean's arms and he let out a shuddering breath.

Clutching him even tighter, Dean buried his face in Cas's neck and hair, and Cas did the same to him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, before Dean finally broke the comforting silence.

"Cas..." he whispered huskily.

"Yes Dean?" Cas replied hoarsely.

"They aren't ugly." Castiel wound his arms tighter around Dean's strong, sturdy figure.

"Cas, they're absolutely beautiful."