It was a rarity, the fact that Dean had gotten to sleep by three.
Sam had fallen asleep much earlier, around one, collapsing on the scratchy motel sheets without a second thought. Sleep, to the two hunters, often seemed like a chore rather than a necessity. Especially in the middle of a hunt, three hours was like ten.
Dean had just barely made it to the bed, sprawled out across the mattress wearing the same flannel and shoes from the day before. Typically, he wasn't a noisy sleeper, but tonight, something was getting to him. He wouldn't stop mumbling in his sleep, tossing and turning, even crying out. It was mostly just nonsense, a complaint about a leviathan or a demon or something. Sam was a light sleeper, his constant alert never truly turned off, and Dean's restless voice kept jolting him awake.
"I said shut up, bitch!"
"...how to punch Dick..."
"No. Pie."
They were amusing, but Sam was exhausted, in no mood to listen to his annoying rants. Sam was about to get up, angrily toss the sheets aside and maybe dump a glass of cold water on to Dean's head, when suddenly, a murmured syllable made him stop.
"Cas..."
It was quiet at first, pitiful. Quickly, it became fearful and desperate, and in the orange light of the streetlamp streaming through the window, Sam began to see Dean tremble.
"Castiel, please...please help..."
Sam was shocked to hear Dean speak Cas' voice like that. Typically it was casual, normal, but this was so much more, so...intense.
"Cas!"
Suddenly, the faintest breeze drifted through the room, followed by the defiant fluttering of feathers. A shadowed figure appeared on Dean's bed, startling Sam, but in a single moment he was recognizable. The angel, in his trench coat, sat on Dean's bed tiredly, obediently. He sighed, taking in the room and the state of Dean. He must have assumed Sam was still sleeping.
"I need...it's Alistair..."
Dean was clearly still asleep, caught in a whirlwind of a bad dream. Alistair? Dean's time in hell was so long ago, Sam didn't even know he still thought about it, let alone dream about it.
"It's alright Dean." another sigh. "I'm here."
Cas ran a hand through his own hair, and then, hesitantly, settled in Dean's. Gently, he combed his fingers through the hunter's hair, stroking his face with strong hands. At seeing the intimate, careful gesture, Sam couldn't help but feel intrusive, like he was walking into something so personal between the two of them. The way Cas seemed so confident in his movements gave him the impression that this wasn't the first occurence.
"It's over, Dean. Hell..." he paused, gazing out the window. His hand didn't leave Dean. "Hell is over. I raised you, Dean, and I swear you're never going back."
Dean mumbled something incoherent, somehow calming down whilst still deep asleep. His breathing was steady and peaceful, and he seemed to lean instinctively towards Cas.
"Gon gisg fam med veh un gon," Cas' deep voice soothed. Sam was surprised at the sudden, familiar cadence of enochian. "I'm here."
Cas stayed for a while, stroking Dean's hair, occasionally murmuring another promise of safety. Sam didn't understand a word of enochian, but the words spoke for themselves. Dean didn't say a thing for the rest of the night.
~
"Rise and shine, Sammy!"
Dean was already dressed, ready for another investigation wearing a rented suit. He was tucking a gun into his pants, packing a bag, nothing like the mess Sam had seen the night before.
Cas was gone. Sam decided not to say anything.
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Kind of a short one, but something I could totally see happening! Thanks for reading and pls leave a comment or a vote for more Destiel feels!!
