Static Radios and Broken Lights

9: Waking Nightmares

WARNING: there are mild depictions of blood in this chapter. Please use discretion when reading.

The air was dry and cold. The sky was dark and strangely void of stars. I looked up, searching for any light at all. As soon as I leaned my head back, my nose bursted with blood. I stumbled back, looking down at the ground. The blood dripped down my lips and fell from my chin, coating my shirt and pants. 

Cas appeared in front of me, steadying me by grabbing my shoulder. "Dean," He lifted my bloody chin so I was looking in his eyes. His lips moved, but all I heard was "Dean."

I felt something rising in my throat, and I coughed. Blood splattered onto his arm and chest. "I'm sorry," I said, my tongue coated in it. My blood continued to drip off my chin, and it pooled in his hand. "All I can hear is my name, Cas. I don't know what you're saying."

He sighed. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed my lower lip as he thought about what to do. I felt my knees start to buckle beneath me, and he quickly moved his arms to my hips, steading me again. His lips moved again, but all I heard was a high pitched whine.

I covered my ears with my hands, and yelled to him, "Do you hear that? Are you using your true voice?" I clenched my teeth and pressed my hands tighter against my head. "Please, stop! It hurts!"

I coughed up more blood, and it practically poured out of my mouth. Cas moved his lips again, and I tried to read them. The whine got louder, and I keeled over, falling to my knees despite his grip on me.

I felt my ears start to fill with blood, and small streams poured down my arms, dripping off the points of my elbows. I looked up at him, and his face was twisted into an expression of sadness. He kneeled next to me, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

My body started to shake, and the high pitched whine became head splitting. I screamed in pain, but I couldn't hear myself anymore. I could feel myself fading fast, and with my last bit of strength, I held onto Cas. 

Then there was silence.

-

My head slipped from resting on my hand, and I banged my forehead on the table. I sat up to find myself in the common room in the bunker, with open books sprawled out in front of me. I blinked a few times before I noticed Cas to my side.

I jumped, "Damn it, Cas," I swore. "Quit watching me sleep."

"I can't," He let go of my shoulder, which I didn't even realize he was holding. "You have to wake up, Dean."

I furrowed my brows at him. "Is this a dream?" I felt something warm on my lip, and when I touched it with my fingers to look at it, I saw blood. "What? I never get nosebleeds."

"I know," He said. "You just need to wake up." His hands rested on the table, pressing his fingertips firmly on the wood. 

"Are you doing this?" I asked harshly. "Stop." Why was I so angry?

"I won't, Dean. Just wake up," His eyes looked so tired, and his expression was strangely sad.

I gave him a lost look. "You keep saying that. I'm awake, Cas, see?" I gestured to myself.

He stood and slammed his hands on the table. "No, you're not!"

I leaned away, frozen in a little bit of fear. The smallest part of me cracked a smile, "That was kinda hot."

He glared at me. "Dean," He said. "Be serious. Please, wake up."

My chest tightened. "I'm not awake?" An idea I had in my head started to shatter. This was an illusion, wasn't it? 

"No!" He clenched my shirt in his fists, pulling me up and slightly out of my seat. "Wake up."

"Get off!" I yelled. He let go and I fell back into the chair. "I don't understand. How can I be asleep?" I tried so desperately to fight off reality. It was coming for me, and I couldn't let it. Something told me I couldn't, no, shouldn't, let reality in. I tried to fight it. I had to fight the illusion.

Blood dripped from my chin and I watched Cas intently. He looked tired, and sad. "Wake up," he touched my forehead with two fingers. 

-

"His eyes are moving," Someone said. "That's good, right? He's going to wake up soon, right, Cas?"

I felt someone's left hand holding mine in a loose arm wrestling type of grip. Their fingers were warm, wrapped around the side of my hand. Their thumb gently rubbed mine. I curled my fingers around the hand and its warmth spread to my fingers, which felt cold. 

There was something so peaceful and safe about the warmth. My fingers pulled at the skin, and the grip tightened on mine. My eyelids were too heavy to open. "I believe so," A gruff voice answered the first one. "He's holding my hand." Another warm hand set itself on my left wrist. 

"Dean, can you hear me?" I turned my head to the right slightly. "It's Sam. You're in the hospital."

My eyes finally opened, and the room was too bright. "Sam?" I whispered. I turned my head to the left. "Cas." My voice was hoarse, and I coughed painfully. 

Cas looked tired. He smiled sadly at me, but I could tell. He was happy to see me awake.

Word Count: 937