He wakes up from the strange sense of warmth on his side. Dean jolts, rises himself on an elbow and turns around. Harpy is sitting next to him, covering him with one of his wings like it’s a blanket, watching somewhere out of the cave. There’s a blizzard howling outside.

“Hey,” Dean calls. His voice is a bit husky from sleep. Harpy turns around immediately and looks at him. There is a question in blue eyes. “What are you doing?”

Winchester frowns, looking at the wing spread out on him. Castiel – Dean, finally, remembers the name of this feathered ass – thoughtfully shifts his gaze on his own limb and moves it a little to make it more comfortable.

“Dude, take it off.”

“I don’t want you to get cold,” harpy replies calmly.

Squirrel makes a face. He suddenly catches himself on a thought to punch this half-bird at his face but wounded shoulder starts to ache again, so Dean hisses and lies back on a cave floor, curling up and placing his head on his tail. Cas silently watches at him. He actually is silent most of the time. The shoulder aches in healing and wing is so warm and cozy…

“Sleep, I’ll watch over you,” Castiel says, turning his head back to the storm outside.

“Just try,” squirrel growls weakly, dropping into sleep.

Castiel knows that spirit won’t get a cold in this weather, but he doesn’t take his wing off him. He feels guilty that Dean’s shoulder will be covered with scars by his talons. Harpy didn’t want to hurt him - he just couldn’t catch him more careful. This is a pure luck that Dean is still alive.

Castiel sighs quietly.