The next week, you decided you should drop everything you had been trying to solve.

Constantly stressing over the fine details of it all made you lose hours upon hours of sleep.

You knew that angel's, in fits of intense emotions or in a simple way of trying to force a point, could make lights flicker about them. Storms brew around them- heavy winds crashing about with their entrance- and sometimes exit.

You tried to stop pondering this fact- tried to simply step on the flame, and after several days of doing just that, you finally settled yourself.

You had to remember why you even met Sam, and Dean- why you were holed up in their bunker.

You were in danger- demons and angels alike trying to flock to you- place their filthy palms on your soul.

It was 'special' as they liked to put. Held connections with beings even you didn't and couldn't fathom.

You came to know Castiel long before they had ever wanted a piece of you. You laughed at the chances you had of meeting him in the alleyway next to a pub.

Even you being there at that exact place, exact time, was utter chance. Got lost, got blown off the usual route home because of a group of burglar type people.

You rushed into that alley, panicked, forcing your way straight into a cloud of something warm and soft against the skin of your face.

You knew it was off the moment you shouldered through that mist of luminescent air, soul quaking with the notion that yes, whatever you had just walked through wasn't human.

Perks of having ancient celestial beings on your side you supposed.

You didn't know what he was. But he knew what you were. And in a burst of poorly times thoughts and emotions, you stared into the air at nothing, visions pressing into the backs of your eyes- visions that depicted what he actually was.

You held a solemn expression despite this, steeling yourself as the sound of church bells rang your head dry. A voice filtered through, confused, and wary of you just as much as you were to it.

Your soul encouraged you to flee. Told you that wandering into the realm of something that wasn't human and wasn't even something you recognized was dangerous.

In a genius movement of nerves, you rushed past the strange warm and velvety mist, coughing as you exited back into the much colder and ache inducing air.

The sketchy looking people that had gave chase to you showed up the moment you exited, intentions clear and malevolent.

The last word voiced to you by the misty entity you had passed through was a word that promised to help, promised that it'd all be fine for you, that he understood what was troubling you.

Light in it's purest form flooded that alleyway a second after, violent screaming from the men filling your ears.

You turned to look, of course you did, and the sight of a beast, so tall it rose above the pub's gritty roof, so large it's pawed legs barely fit in the alleyway, and one large pair of extraordinary black wings so magnificent that you couldn't pry your eyes away.

The light that surrounded it obliterated the men that were chasing you, eyes blown out of their sockets with the pure and rare energy radiating off of the beast.

The next moment- it was gone.

The only proof you had that it had ever been there was the dead bodies laying on the dark curb and the softest whispers teasing your ears saying that you were safe.

Your meetings became more frequent after that, meeting through dreams and other forms of unconscious states, until the both of you began to relay much deeper and troubling problems to each other.

Settled on your bed, thinking over all the problems and mysteries you still had yet to solve, you sat up from the pile of blankets that were over you. The whole day you holed yourself there, scribbling information on paper, and fending off sleep. You felt that it was time to rouse yourself from this dreaded spell of procrastination.

"(Y/N)!" You heard Dean call, a bit terse sounding, "Get your ass out here we need to talk!"

Frowning, you threw yourself off the bed, taking steps through your mess of a room before softly creaking your door open.

Peering into the dimly lit hallway. God, someone likes to conserve electricity.

Rushing down the hall, you made you way to the library, peeking in and seeing Dean sitting at a table. Sam and Cas sat opposite to him, faces serious with the presumed news they had received.

Stepping into room, Castiel made eye contact with you first, dread still painting his face.

"What happened?" Was the first thing out of your mouth, legs making their way over to the table before you stopped, standing beside the table and soaking in the concern that came off of them all. Your arms crossed over your chest, softly clenching yourself for comfort.

Sam sighed, long and deep, before lifting his brown eyes to look at you "Cas brought back news." His hands ran down his moose of a face, before he all but slammed his head on the table.

Cas took initiative to keep explaining, "We have more information about the temperament of the beings that are... tied to you."

Nodding, you idled closer.

"They- or well- the main celestial spirit that has interest in you- appeared to me in a vision. It was very unhappy."

"So basically we have to worry about another god awful threat looming over our heads." Dean summed up, facing you with his classic bitch face on.

You leaned in, lips parting to speak, "Well do we have a lead? Anything to bounce off of?"

Sam just groaned, muffling his voice on the table.

Cas remained silent while Dean raised an eyebrow, "You think we'd be acting so beat up if we knew anything?"

Huffing, you placed your hand on you hips, taken off guard with the sudden backtalk, "Well I don't know-" you paused, "You know why it chose to talk to Cas? Or maybe what type of beast this thing is?"

"No." Was Dean's finishing sentence, as he settled on staring at Sam, "All we know is that this all powerful wack job is riled up about something, and is a cataclysmic disaster waiting to happen."

Cas- entirely ready to search for this later- whispered to himself, "Wack job..." looking to the table in a small fit of confusion.

"Don't ask." Dean stopped the angel in his tracks.

The room finally settled into silence- and you took a moment to just sigh in your groggy sleep lusting mind, grabbing a chair and spinning it around so you could sit down in a position quite similar to Sam. Head on the table, back hunched.

"Sometimes I wish I could just go back to being a dumb human."

No one replied.

Everyone just continued to sit in your collective sighs of defeat.

But like a bolt of lightning hit, Sam sat up straighter.

"Okay- Idea!" He made eye contact with everyone in the room, "So we don't know what this thing wants- but we can still start ruling out what it couldn't be!"

With everyone's attention on him, he stood up from his chair, running over to a drawer and rummaging through it, "It- uh- it's a primordial being that could have existed before death, right?"

Castiel watched Sam as he searched about, narrowing in when the moose pulled a sheet of clean rumpled paper out, "Most definitely. Nothing can emit that type of sheer power- I only saw it in a vision and yet I could feel it shake my very being."

"Alright see- we're getting somewhere-" The Winchester traipsed back over, placing the paper on the table and whipping out a pen, "We can rule out the things we know it can't be, which, quite clearly isn't any of the horsemen."

He scribbled all the horsemen's names down, immediately crossing them off.

"How can we be so sure it isn't a horsemen?" Dean said, leaning forward and clearly intrigued.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "How it isn't a horsemen- Dean- Cas viewed it through a vision- and if you would recall-"

"It's power felt like a warm hand." Castiel cut in.

Sam pointed at Cas as if it would make a point, "A warm hand- not a sickly- or rage inducing- or literally any of the things we've encountered-"

"So?" Dean questioned, "It's hand feels warm- so what?"

"It felt orgasmic."

Silence swamped everyone the moment Castiel said that.

"Oh god..." Sam spoke, slightly repulsed at how casually Cas threw the word into their conversation.

"Not in a sexual way."

Everyone relaxed their shoulders, more curious then ever.

You met eyes with Cas, watching him as he shifted from where he sat. The dim lights in the room made you strain to focus in on his features, his lips quirking when he met your eyes, "You look like you have a question."

Smiling back, you flashed your teeth as a chuckled slipped past your lips, "More then you know."

"Your thoughts?" Cas inquired.

All of the passing questions that you'd been pondering for the past few weeks rose to the surface- a bubbling sensation of frustration threatening to pop with the next few words you wanted to throw at him.

You withheld yourself- he didn't need to be bothered by trivial things like box fans falling over, and chips dropping off of shelves.

"If not sexual- how did it feel?"

The angel raised an eyebrow, no hesitation at all- in fact, clear confidence pushing his being forward to answer, "It felt like me."

"A mist." You clarified, "A cloud of warmth and velvet."

Castiel nodded, "If the way you described walking through my ethereal form is anything like that, then yes."

Dean and Sam watched the two of you narrow in on each other, passively accepting the weird profound way you interacted and referenced things.

Not passively enough, as Dean bitch faced his way into your conversation, "English please."

Turning to him, you explained it in the most simple terms you could, "Take the most important person to you, have thanksgiving dinner with them, and then contentedly hug with a full stomach."

Sam and Dean both 'oh'ed.

Good- they understood what you meant.

Taking a step back, you grinned at all of them, determination newly making its way into your posture.

Cas looked at you- the gaze of an old friend- the gaze of a companion you wouldn't trade.

He blatantly acknowledged your refreshed confidence with a quirk of his own lips, thus further sealing you brightened mood.

Parting your lips, you smugly stated, "So- let's get to crossing things off this list...!"

The next moment, when Castiel cumbersomely stood up from the table, the books on the table behind him decided to push themselves off the edge.

God, all your frustrated thoughts came back.

______

Cough

will edit later

Tell me if you see any blatant mistakes