"It's gonna be ok," Sam urged in whispered tones as he drew in tighter around the trembling bundle in his arms. Small fingers curled into the soft material of his t-shirt and he tried not to think about how dirty and grungy that t-shirt was honestly as he scooted further into the open sewer drain he was currently hiding in. The child clinging to him didn't seem to notice though, or more accurately, he didn't much care. Castiel wasn't the sort to complain very often as an adult and his juvenile self had proven just as unflappable with the minor exception that he was scared of demons. Not that Sam could really blame him. As an adult Cas could have wiped out half of these creeps without breaking a sweat but as a child, he lacked the same amount of grace and thus was easy prey for the legions of hell who were all too eager to get their proverbial claws on him. Apparently angel babies were considered a delicacy in hell. Sam shuddered at the thought and tried to push that mental image aside.
They just had to hold out, he told himself. Dean was no doubt on the way and would be there with the cavalry any time now though the thought of his brother running headlong into a throng of demons controlled by the horrifying monster he'd just escaped from wasn't exactly comforting. Sam could only have faith in his brother's abilities. Dean was a grade A hunter and he would think of something. The muted flutter of wings caught his attention and Sam glanced down at the tiny form pressed against his chest. He gently tugged on the oversized plaid shirt Castiel was wrapped in and carefully tucked it up around his friend's shoulders to hide the soft glow of light that surrounded the tiny appendages protruding from his back. He couldn't risk the light catching the wrong sort of attention and giving them away despite the fact that he hated covering the little wings. It was the only set of actual angel's wings he'd ever seen or ever would for that matter and he had come to enjoy the sight.
The sound of approaching footsteps had Sam scooting silently into the darkness around him, sliding ever further into the dank pipe he was hiding in. His jeans were soaked with water, his hands shaking with the cold of the air below ground, but the point of light in all of that darkness was Castiel, who wordlessly shifted to let Sam carry him farther away from danger. The child radiated heat in a way that reminded Sam of sitting in a window in summertime with the sunlight pouring over him and it renewed his silent vow that he'd die before he let the demons get to his friend. "Damn it, Gabriel," Sam muttered under his breath. Perhaps it wasn't fair to lay the blame for this odd situation squarely on the archangel's shoulders since the demon's arrival wasn't his fault, but Castiel's current condition certainly was and that was good enough for Sam. He half wondered if Dean was going to kill Gabe when he finally got to him. Sam was heavily considering the possibility himself as his mind turned back to the events of the last week that had brought him to this point.