A Dark Path

Untitled Part 10

Two days after their movie night, Cas noticed Dean become gradually worse. After realizing that Dean was having side effects that didn't necessarily relate to the Mark blazing red against his skin, Cas kept an even keener eye on Dean (if that were possible). He began to notice that when Dean escaped to his room to listen to his music, it was because he was escaping Castiel and Sam so they wouldn't see his pale features and the bloodshot eyes. When he went to the kitchen to clean or to cook, Cas would follow behind at a distance and see him having coughing fits, spots of blood at the corner of his lips. 

Then, one night, when Sam was fast asleep and Cas was strolling aimlessly through the library, Dean began screaming. It wasn't loud enough to wake Sam up, but with Cas on high alert now, he easily caught the sound. Panic fueled, Cas hurried to the hunter's room, opened the door without thought, and rushed to his side. 

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed, moaning fitfully. The blankets were tangled around his legs, leaving open his bare chest, sweat drenched and heaving almost painfully. "No! No!" Fists with clenched. 

"Dean?" Cas sat at the edge of the bed, his brows furrowed. "Dean." 

He hunter made a whimpering sound, and he contorted his body further as if fighting against an visible force. 

"Dean." Cas tried again, his voice as soft as he could make it. He reached out a gentle hand towards the hunter's shoulder to awake him from the hellish nightmare.

The moment of contact, Cas realized his mistake. Cas had once been able to use his grace to awaken Dean out of his nightmares, making it an almost seamless transition between the two realms. While it wasn't necessarily a great way for Dean to wake, still in the throes of his hell-vision and his heart pounding, it was safe for others in the room. This time, however, Cas didn't have enough grace to exert for such matters, and the briefest touch sent the hunter into attack mode. 

A calloused hand gripped tightly around Cas' wrist and pulled harshly, and suddenly Cas found himself prone on the bed, a heavy body straddling him with a knife to his neck. With a weakened grace that wasn't his, against someone with the Mark of Cain, Cas didn't have the strength he normally would have to break out of the hold. Nor, he assumed, would have tried anyways. Dean wasn't in his right state of mind, and Cas wouldn't have wanted to spook him any further than he already had. 

"Dean," Cas stated calmly, staring deeply into blurry, dark green eyes. 

"Cas," Dean's voice was hoarse. The knife was still poised at the angel's neck. "What? What are you doing here?"

"I heard you screaming." Cas stated in monotone. "What were you dreaming of?"

As if just realizing that he had a knife pointed at his friend, Dean took the weapon away and placed it back beneath the pillow. "I...I don't remember."

The angel stared deeply into his eyes, trying to peer into his soul to see the truth, but came away with nothing. Dean could be lying, or the nightmare might have been too blurry now in his wakeful state. Whatever it was, Cas wasn't going to press the issue at the moment. He didn't want to be the reason why Dean shut down or broke down or whatever other possibility might come from pressuring the hunter. 

Green eyes stared right back. Cas wasn't too sure what the hunter was trying to seek in the angel's features. Did he still think he was a threat? Did he think this was still a nightmare? Did he want something that Cas had yet to offer? 

"Dean," Cas tried to speak again, beginning to become uneasy about their position. Dean had yet to move from his place on top of Castiel, his thighs trapping him underneath. Though Cas had no qualms with their proximity to one another, nor what their position might have implied if others happened to see them, but he was all too aware how Dean might react to the situation once he was in his right state of mind again. 

"I'll be fine." Dean stated as if to reassure himself along with Castiel. "I think I was dreaming of Hell." He straightened himself, but didn't move to the side. "It's been awhile since I've had those types of nightmares." 

Cas nodded despite his discomfort. "It was Hell, Dean. It's no weakness on your part if you still have nightmares about." He wanted to shift to get more comfortable, but didn't want Dean to notice what Cas was trying to hide. "Do you need to do anything?"

"What?" It seemed that Dean had yet to actually fully awaken, his mind clouded. That would explain why he wasn't in a hurry to move. He probably wasn't even aware of where he was and where Cas was in relation to him.

"Do you want something to drink, maybe? I hear that sometimes warm milk can help humans go to sleep more easily." 

"No, no." Dean shook his head. "I'll be okay." Absent-mindedly, he scratched at the Mark on his arm. Cas' narrowed at the action, but he made no move. 

He couldn't move. There was a tightness and a burning desire that was coiling up in his lower body that Cas wasn't entirely able to decipher. On a physical level, he understood what was happening. It was an erection. What he couldn't understand, was what he should do about it. Deeper than that, he couldn't understand why it was happening. It was wrong, Cas told himself himself, to become aroused in this instant, when Dean was in mental turmoil and nothing between them was more than platonic. 

"Dean," Cas tried one more time to bring Dean out of his mental cloud and become aware of their position so that he may get off of him, but still it was to no avail. Dean still sat atop Cas' waist, his head lowered drowsily and his left arm gripping the Mark almost painfully. "Do you think you can go back to sleep? Or do you wish to get up and occupy your mind?"

"Uh, I...I think I'm going to go to sleep." Finally, Dean began to lower himself off of Cas so that he could lay beside him instead. 

Cas stayed for a second, mesmerized by the lack of gruffness that usually accompanied everything the hunter did. Once eyelids began to close, and the hunter's breath began to steady, Cas attempted to push himself off the bed. However, he was stopped by a strong arm now laying across his midsection. 

"Dean."

"Stay."

It was a word that Cas had never heard from the the Winchester's lips before, but was a word Cas had always desperately longed for. So soft and vulnerable, Dean was requesting Cas' presence for his mere presence. For it was Cas he now sought comfort from and reassurance that everything would indeed be all right. The thought alone made Cas feel warm inside. 

However, it also did things to other parts of his body that Cas was pretty sure Dean would not appreciate in the morning. "Are you sure?"

"Yea." The arm tightened around him, hugging him to his side. "Stay. Please." Cas nodded, though Dean was too lost in his consciousness to notice. In an almost whisper, unaware of what was escaping his lips, he admitted, "I need you."