Just a small one-shot I was inspired to write, thanks to an internet friend's request. I guess the holidays are calling for all the fluff I don't write during the rest of the year xD
Comments and kudos are very welcome and appreciated!
Enjoy!
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Hardships and tragedies tend to bring people together, they say. Each of them tears away pieces of your soul, and even in the aftermath it never stops taking and taking and taking. And each time the pain, instead of dulling, is a little sharper, a little deeper. It is as if, the more walls you build around you, the more vulnerable you become when a crack in your defences is found. At the end of the day, behind all your barriers, you're nothing but a fragile castle made of debris, ready to start crumbling when the next blow comes.
That's when the natural instinct to reach out surfaces, seeking for a kindred soul. No matter how deep your distrust is, how strong your hopelessness. Survival is the strongest of pulls, even for those who have already not just hit the bottom, but also began to dig even deeper. It's a harsh fight, between the fear of creating even more openings for your demons to consume you and the awareness that certain battles cannot be won in solitude.
How many times has the world been on the verge of destruction? Too many, especially considering that, from a wider point of view, a couple of decades are less than heartbeat in the long lifetime of the universe. One might wonder how quickly their efforts to keep reality together are truly worth, when they might be forgotten in the blink of the universal eye.
Dean tilts his head back to take a swing of his beer, rolling his eyes at himself. Lack of sleep seriously fucks up with his brain at times. He's never been one to linger on philosophy, not in those terms at least. He prefers focusing on the present, when he's not dwelling, willingly or not, in the darkest parts of his past. The bigger picture...That's somehow he has given up understanding a long time ago, when he had started to doubt that it existed at all. Moreover, he likes to think that he can make a difference, no matter how small, with his actions, at least in the life of the people they save.
A light ruffling sound comes from behind his shoulders and he turns his head to see who's approaching him. Considering that he is sat on the top of the hill that shields the Bunker, his guesses are reduced to a very small handful of people. They aren't expecting any guest and it's the middle of the night, which means that Sam is most likely asleep. So, when Castiel joins him on the grass, he isn't surprised at all.
"Hello, Dean. Can't sleep?" The angel asks, his voice much quieter than it normally is. The night air is so silent, to the point that it almost feels sacred, and he doesn't feel like disturbing its atmosphere. He wraps his arms around his bent knees and turns to fully look at the hunter.
"Something like that," Dean replies with a small shrug and then reaches out to offer his best friend another beer bottle. They are close enough for their shoulders to brush. "Just...you know. Lots of thoughts. Can't exactly sleep if my brain doesn't shut up."
"I could help, if you'd like," Castiel promptly offers, as they both know he would have. This is hardly a new conversation for them and, in any case, the angel has always been more than ready to shove his assistance in the older Winchester's way. Sometimes a bit too much and with disastrous consequences. He raises a hand but doesn't try to reach out to the human's forehead. By now he has grasped that Dean prefers not to be touched by "angelic mojo" unless he has given his explicit permission.
The hunter shakes his head, as he almost always does. "Nah. I mean I appreciate the offer, but if I let you put me to sleep now, I'll be up all night tomorrow. Better let these thoughts run their course. You know how it works with me and sleep, after Purgatory and all. I'll just get a stronger dose of coffee later. Also, I have this." He waves his own bottle before taking another sip and the silence quickly falls on them again.
YOU ARE READING
The Silent Hour of the Night
FanfictionSleepless nights aren't always so bad. At times they bring revelations and so many events have met their ending in the almost complete silence of the night. If you ask Dean, though, he'll say that it's all bullshit. Lack of sleep and alcohol just cr...