Dean woke up with a ragged cry that sounded as if he was being torn in half.

Lisa startled awake, feeling her heart pound with adrenaline and watched as the man beside her pulled himself up onto the side of the bed. In the dim light, she could see a trembling quake run through his broad shoulders.

"Baby?"

He didn't answer, although the way he held himself honestly gave her all the information she needed at this point. She rolled to her knees behind him, briefly hoping that his cry hadn't awakened Ben.

"Dean?"

There was a silent pause and she saw his shoulders tighten fractionally as he dipped his head. She let him sit quietly for a minute until he started to make a move to get up. She wrapped her arms around his bare skin and pulled him back down to sit.

"Lisa." The sound was broken.

"Shhhh." She soothed, pressing herself against his back and tightening her arms around his chest. "You're here now. You're safe."

His respiration increased a little with his agitation. She kissed the back of his neck just below the shortly cropped hair.

Dean closed his eyes at the tenderness of the gesture.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her long dark hair brushed his bicep as she leaned over to look at the side of his face.

He shook his head.

"Okay."

He scrubbed his palm back and forth through his hair, and cleared his throat. "M...M sorry I woke you up."

She put her hand on his arm and stroked him. "Come back to bed, Dean. Lie down."

"I should probably sleep on the couch." His voice was a gruff whisper and barely steady.

"Come on, let me hold you."

He turned his neck around to look at her in shock. "Why are you so good to me?"

She smiled back patiently, wordlessly, and she saw the reserves start to crumble a little.

"It's okay." She crooned.

He gave a broken sounding snort. "Not for me, it isn't."

She felt her hurt lurch. "You're not alone. You have Ben and I."

She knew what he was thinking: Don't have Sammy.

"I don't deserve you."

She laughed. "The guy that saved the world doesn't deserve a rapidly approaching middle-age single mother?"

"I didn't save it." He said softly.

Sam did. He left unspoken.

"Dean, come back to bed." She urged. "Let me hold you."

He paused, hesitated and then slid back onto the mattress. She mentally rejoiced. Progress. Getting him to accept love was no easy task.

He settled on his side and she could see and feel him fighting the nervous tension. That which told him to flee or fight.

She gathered him into her arms. He pillowed his head against her breasts and curled into her, eyes shut like he was in pain. He lay breathing against her for the space of several minutes and then, his voice a whisper. "Maybe I should leave."

Her hurt lurched and she lifted her head to look at him. "What?" She knew what he meant: Tell me to go.

His instinct was to run. She knew it. Dreaded it.

"I...I keep doing this to you." He continued. "I'm gonna drag you into my shit and ruin your lives. Its...it's what I do. It's not fair to you or Ben."

"Having a few nightmares is dragging me into your shit?" She asked skeptically, brow wrinkling.

Dean sank his head back into her and clung tightly like a little boy.

"I just... I didn't know where else to go." There he was, still trying to excuse showing up at her door, like she wasn't happy to see him or something.

"Dean. I don't give up that easy, okay? I've raised a kid on my own. This is nothing."

She hoped the lie made him feel better: This is nothing.

This was everything. Her prince charming arrived broken in half, binge drinking and distant but so in need of her. Why did fairy tales always come with a price?

Why did she know deep down that she was going to lose him eventually? One way or another.

But maybe, just maybe, she could be what he needed. Be his support system. His everything he had left. Get him to stay.

He looked up at her with his handsome face, all dark eyelashes and earnest eyes, the look of stressed wariness that had settled over his features like a permanent fog lifting suddenly. And this...this part of Dean. The Dean Winchester she remembered from their youth- he was worth fighting for... because Dean lost a little more of him every day.

"This is nothing." She told him again, petting the top of his head. He was so good to Ben. Had saved her baby when he didn't have to for nothing more than a thank you. Saved a bunch of children in the process. Sacrificed so much for her and strangers and the world itself. And now he seemed to think she even had a choice to throw him out if she were so inclined. What kind of bitch would that make her?

But honestly, she didn't want him to go anywhere. Even as broken as he was. He was still Dean.

Dean snuggled in closer and she could feel the tension relax as his eyes slid closed. She rubbed his back in a soothing circle.

The breathing evened out and he drifted back to sleep, clinging to her like a well-worn stuffed animal. She knew there would be more nightmares the next night.

Lisa wasn't aware of the mistake she was making. Or perhaps she was, but didn't care. Could lie to herself that it was alright. She could follow the mistake of all women since the dawn of time...he was broken-impossibly, beautifully, irreparably broken and she wanted to fix him.

His warmth curled next to her made her stroke him more, hand up and down his bicep, fingers down his forearm.

One day not too far away, Dean would teach her the futility of attempting to put him back together in any way resembling whole.

But until then, when Dean showed her his cracks, his shattered pieces, she'd gladly meet him with the superglue.

This is probably not my best work, just a one-shot I wrote at 2 am when I was having a panic attack. So Dean had to have one... because what happens to me must happen to the boys. LOL.