Crazy Mind -Destiel-

11- Sleeping alone

One-click and Dean's eyes are open. In the blackness, he moves slow enough to not make a sound, fast enough to reach for the gun beneath his pillow. He's sat up with his finger on the trigger before he can register what the sound is, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes are still blurry for sleep and if it wasn't for the dull light shining from the TV he would be mistaking a pile of clothes for an intruder.

He waits, counting ten heartbeats before he lowers the gun. He glances towards the door, the thinly curtained window beside it doing nothing to shield the room from the orange glow of the street lights outside. Another click alerts Dean and this time he grips the gun but doesn't raise it.

Another bump.

Swearing.

Dean groans collapsing back on to the bed and pushing his palms into his eyes. The people in the room next to him apparently have no problem waking up the rest of the motel in the middle of the night. The weight of the gun resting in his hand is a heavy reminder of just how crazy of a situation he's in and how completely unprepared he is. Stuffing the gun underneath his pillow, Dean rolls over to try and go back to his dreamless sleep but once again is face to face with a red glow telling him it's only 3 am.

God, he's such an idiot. What would a gun do against an angel? Is he even allowed to shoot one or would he get smite down by the almighty or something?

His mind easily becomes overrun with anxiety now that he has the chance to think it's almost impossible to stop. This whole thing is unreal he never believed in angel's or God, in all honesty, he's not sure he believes in them now. He believes that there are crazy people that will kill him for reason unknown to Dean, but they're trying to kill him because Castiel didn't. And yet Castiel hasn't really told him why he had to kill him, what made him so damn important.

Castiel himself is another problem entirely.

The angel has lied to him, tried to kill him and nearly succeeded, has pumped him full of grace and is the reason why Dean is here alone in the motel room (because apparently leaving someone who is being hunted by a pack of powerful supernatural creatures is completely fine). He rolls on to his back. The TV was a comforting buzz to lull him into a false sleep where he was only half awake but now with the rush of adrenaline, he can't shut out memories of sleeping beside someone, of being able to hear Sam's laboured breathing.

Sam.

The one name he'd been warned to keep out of his head keeps sneaking back in no matter how hard he tries. He shouldn't be surprised. Not really. Because Sam occupies almost every single memory Dean owns. He's a constant reminder of the fact that Dean left him, that he's not here with them. That he could be dying for all Dean knows, he could already be- no. Dean wraps his arms around himself to try and steady his shaking hands. He can't think about that. Not right now.

"Dean we discussed this," Castiel says in a hushed voice as he appears. Dean nods, unsurprised, into the darkness. Castiel always appears when Dean thinks of Sam, he had just hoped that he wouldn't appear this time so that Dean could spare his brother more than a few seconds of thought. An apology is on the tip of Dean's tongue but it quickly transforms into an accusation. "And what did we discuss about you reading my mind?" He wants to ask where the hell Castiel has been but he knows he won't receive an answer and he's too drained to argue now. Castiel frowns, half shrugging. "You're right. I suppose it is difficult for you not to think of your brother." He pauses, watching over Dean as he stares blankly at the wall in front of him. "He is safe Dean. I swear to you I will not let any harm come to you or your brother. Ever." Dean glances up, quirking his lips ever so slightly. "Ever?" The angel nods fondly as he finds himself copying Deans expression. "Ever."

Dean nods back somewhat distantly, his mind trying to organise his previous thoughts. Castiel turns to leave but he's stopped by a hand on his arm. Before Dean realises what he's done Castiel is turning to face him. "I- um. Could you.." Dean glances down at the bed, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on Castiel's trench coat. "Just for a minute." Dean rushes when Castiel doesn't respond immediately, his cheeks burning pink.

Castiel can't help the smile that grows on his face. Dean still being so trusting, after all, they've been through, after their fight, makes Castiel's heart clench in his chest. He slides Dean's hand off his arm and sits down next to him on the small bed. Their knees knock together as their bodies touch shoulder to hip. Dean tenses at first, gentle human contact becoming a foreign feeling by now, but soon relaxes into the touch. His head lolls forwards before dropping and rolling to the side to rest on Castiel's shoulder, too embarrassed to look at the angel. "You know what Cas?" He whispers. The angel glances down at Dean as he wriggles his head closer into the curve of Castiel's neck. "What?" He replies. Dean hums in the back of his throat, his eyes closed. "I'm so fucking terrified of you." Castiel tenses at the words. As if his whole body decided to just stop existing losing all signs of warmth and life. A feeling Castiel quickly realises is fear, the fear that Dean sees him as nothing more than some monster he's stuck with until he can escape this mess.

However, Dean expresses nothing of the sort as he leans further against Castiel's body. "Because I've only known you for what a couple of weeks? But I trust you, I trust you so damn much, with my life actually. And it scares the crap out of me." He swallows, taking a shaky breath as if speaking the truth caused him psychical strain. Dean feels Castiel smile as his shoulders relax and Castiels head carefully drops on to the top of Dean's. Both of them watch the light from the outside ripple around the room.

Eventually, Dean's eyes shut but he tries not to sleep not wanting to miss a moment. There's still stuff he needs to ask Castiel, that they need to discuss but right here leaning again Castiels side Dean feels the constant nagging slowly calm and disappear into the back of his mind. It's Castiel's grace that's calming him he's sure of it. It's as if a bubble has formed around his head, numbing the rest of his senses.

Dean feels himself slip deeper into sleep, his body becoming limp before he can no longer form coherent thoughts.

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