Angel Wings and Demon Pitchforks

42. Dreamers Often Lie

A/N: Hi guys, sorry this chapter is really late. We kinda wrote a chapter and then realised that it was from the Novak's POV and would ruin our chapter POV alternation thing that none of you have probably noticed. But for someone reason it means a lot to us so we couldn't do it. Well, have fun realising that we alternate the chapter point of views and reading this chapter.

- Izzy and Pear

---

"I dreamt a dream last night," Dean read from the script.

"And so did I," Lisa recounted, staring at the ceiling.

"Well what was yours?"

"That dreamers often lie."

"In bed asleep while they do dream things true," Dean read.

"Oh, then I see Queen Mab has been with you..." Lisa launched into the monologue she had been struggling with and Dean turned to his phone.

Spending time with his girlfriend was nice. But she needed to memorise Mercutio's lines before school went back, which meant he needed to help her. Like a good boyfriend.

Cas, 11:43am
You don't need to apologise again.
I'm just happy that we're friends.
Soulmates can be friends, you know.

Cas sent those messages three hours ago. Dean still hadn't responded. He didn't know how. Because damn him to hell and back he was in love with that boy.

"Dean?" Lisa prompted, poking him in the side. He jumped and switched off his phone, guilty that he had been staring at the messages from Cas while he was supposed to be helping his girlfriend.

"Sorry. It's just Cas."

Lisa smiled softly. "Well, I thought that maybe we could move on from memorising."

"Well, what do you want to do?" Dean asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Lisa's hand gently moved up his arm to his neck.

"I have some ideas," she murmured, and kissed him. And with every kiss, his feelings for Cas were suppressed a little more. Because Dean wasn't about to let his father down. Not when Michael and Sam were both gay. It was his duty, as the middle brother, to protect his siblings. He gently pushed Lisa back onto the bed. Cas was happy being friends. So Dean would have to learn how to be happy with that too.

--

Lisa knew.

She knew what it meant when Dean said it was "just Cas."

She knew that both Cas and Dean were lying to themselves.

She knew that it hurt Dean more than it hurt her.

Her boyfriend was not straight. Her boyfriend was in love with someone else. Her boyfriend was struggling to keep his head above water, denying all of the above.

But call her selfish. Call her a terrible person. She had wanted a boyfriend for longer than she could remember. She had been dreaming to find her Romeo, someone who she could cuddle with and kiss and spill all her secrets too. Dean was all she'd ever wanted. And she wanted him for just a little longer.

Dreamers often lie.

It echoed in her heart as she kissed Dean. Yes, she was lying to him. She was lying about not seeing the chemistry and the undying, unrequited love radiating from the both Dean and Cas. She was lying to herself, convincing herself that the longer this went on, the less likely it would hurt. It was going to end. This dream of hers. Eventually, it would come to an end and she would only be left heartbroken, kicking herself for not ending it sooner.

Yes, it was going to hurt. But she was going to keep dreaming a little longer.

And so was he.

---

Michael woke up in a cold sweat. It was just a nightmare, he repeated to himself over over, sitting up. A nightmare. Not real. Just a dream. He looked across the room at where Dean slept, soundly and peacefully. Dean had asked if Michael was alright earlier that week.

"You good, man?" Dean asked, pulling a shirt over his chest, his back to his brother. "Sounded like you had a pretty restless night."

"Yeah, just a dream."

But what if it wasn't "just a dream?" Michael curled his knees up to his chest, letting the blanket slide off his legs, exposing himself to the chilly winter air. It had been so vivid. It had felt so real.

It was the same, every night. It had been the same, every night for the past week.

Michael and his brothers were together. Happy. The Novak's were there too. Happy. Then John would enter the room. He would also be happy. Kind, even. Until he saw it: a small gesture between Lucifer and Michael, a kiss between Sam and Gabriel. John would walk over, slowly. Then came the yelling. The shouting, the screaming. The disapproval and the disgust.

That night John had been hitting Lucifer.

Michael shivered and it wasn't until he felt the tears hit his neck that he realised it wasn't from the cold. He put his hand over his mouth so he wouldn't wake Dean.

"Soulmates aren't real, Michael," John cackled, striking Lucifer again. "Didn't I teach you better? Didn't you learn? I thought I had made myself pretty clear when I branded you with that iron."

Michael's hand went down the pyjama shirt straight to his chest, to his heart. He felt the demon pitchfork. No more burn scars. They had disappeared when he'd kissed Lucifer.

Lucifer. His soulmate. His boyfriend.

---

He looked up. Someone was in the doorway. John.

"You know, when I found you with that boy," John said, walking over to Michael's bed. Michael backed up into the headrest and started begging, apologising.

"No," he mumbled. "No. I didn't-- I--"

"I realised there was no possible chance I could save you. But Sam? He was a good kid and now he has a boyfriend. You made him confused, Michael. You were supposed to be the good example, the oldest brother, but you failed. You influenced him to make bad choices."

John raised his fist. Michael flinched.

"Michael!"

Michael shot up, almost taking Dean out in the process.

"Damn, Michael," Dean stumbled back, "you alright?" Michael whipped his head around the room. The lamp was on beside Dean's bed. No sign of John. None. He looked back at Dean.

"What--"

"You were talking in your sleep, apologising to someone." Dean walked back over to his bed and sat on the edge. "Woke me up."

"Sorry," Michael stammered. Get a grip, he thought. It was just another dream.

"You alright? Sounded like a pretty intense nightmare."

"I'm fine." Just another dream. But dreamers often lie.