Dean is concerned as Sam's nightmares have returned and seem to be an unsolvable issue. Castiel just wants to help, but Sam's been having intense dreams about his best friend that have him questioning his sexuality. Mini Bang story written for Sasti...
Cold sweat streaked down Sam's bare torso, his knuckles white, fingers digging into the sheets as he thrashed violently in his bed. The nightmares which had robbed him of rest for years had returned with a terrifying fervor. He would jolt awake several times each night, stare at the clock and wonder when he'd ever find peace. When he closed his eyes and hoped for peaceful dreams and a night of rest, there was no escape from the demons in his head.
Seeing the dark circles under Sam's eyes and sensing something was off, Dean suggested his younger brother start drinking heavily before bed to knock himself out cold. "Always works for me," Dean said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey. "No dreams, no nightmares, nothing. Just an alcoholic coma for 7 hours." He passed the bottle to Sam, who poured the contents into a shotglass. After many bottles of beer and several shots; he wasn't exactly counting, Sam started to feel his body and his inhibitions relax.
"Dean... you dunno what it's like..." he slurred. "You been through stuff but you don't have all this crap in your head all the time and..." Sam was completely sauced at this point and Dean knew it was no use carrying on a conversation with his brother in this state. He wouldn't remember anything he said.
Dean patted Sam on the shoulder. "It's alright, Sammy," he said. "Come on, lemme help you to bed." Sam put his arm around Dean's shoulder, and they slowly, drunkenly limped from the library toward Sam's bedroom. Just then they were interrupted by the sound of wings fluttering behind them. Castiel appeared and took his place on the other side of Sam and helped carry him, lifting the larger man's weight easily.
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"Sam. Are you OK?" Cas asked as they shuffled toward Sam's bedroom door. Even in the younger Winchester's inebriated state, Cas could see the nights of stress written on Sam's face, the dark circles under his eyes said enough. Cas could also see inside Sam's troubled soul. Reading Sam's mind was never pleasant for Cas. He felt conflicted about violating his friend's privacy. Still, his concern for Sam's well being came first. Cas couldn't help the horrified look in his eyes when he peered into Sam's recent thoughts. Nightmares that went beyond anything nightmares should normally be. The mirror of his mind reflected back hellish visions of torture and the resultant panic attacks Sam had been dealing with all alone.
Sam looked over at Cas through hooded, bleary eyes. "Cas... hey," he said, smiling. "You didn't have to..." he trailed off as they pushed open the door. The two men dragged Sam toward his bed, setting him down on top of the covers.
"Dean, why didn't you tell me this was going on?" Cas asked as he helped Dean untie Sam's shoes. "Your brother needs help." Sam yawned loudly and mumbled something neither man could hear.
"Nightmares? It's just part of the gig," Dean said, dragging Sam's feet from the floor up onto the bed. Sam was too tall for his own bed, and his feet stuck out from under the quilt Cas put over him. "Unless this is some of his psychic crap?" Dean asked.
