Cass had accomplished his fair share of pestering the boys with questions. In fact, he became rather infamous for it, but who could blame his lack of human knowledge?

Recently, the queries took a different form. You, an innocent youngster who lived with them at the bunker, wide-eyed and curious. Your young mind was so endlessly creative and naive, drawing the angel’s attention. You suddenly wanted to know everything about Heaven.

Cas had materialized in Bobby’s shed like some twisted miracle not too long ago. You were there, rebelliously peeking through the crack of the door. The shadows of his towering wings practically burned into your retinas that night, even though you never saw them since.

Sam had been wary of the angel, and Dean mistrustful, but you would look up at Cas with the biggest starry eyes. Your mind was whirring like one of Dean’s cassette tapes, to the point where your curiosity about the celestial world got the better of you. As the angel stood awkwardly in the room by the researching Winchester brothers, seemingly doing nothing, you tugged at his sleeve. With big, curious eyes, you ask: “Mister, do angels hatch from eggs?”