Dean shivered violently in his sleep. His nightmares these days were full of the deaths of the ones he loved. His Sammy, his father, his mother. Various faces from their travels popped up too. People he felt responsible for.
Except not tonight. Tonight he was having a special nightmare. Reserved for the feelings left in the deep, dark recesses of his heart.
Because purgatory did that.
At first, it was jumbles of noises, flashes of pictures. They weren't really nightmares until he heard the screaming in his head. The pure, unadulterated fear, mixed with torturous pain, and a small amount of pride. And no matter how familiar, he could never quite place it.
His head didn't know what his heart knew.
Whenever he dreamed those dreams, he'd feel dread, and determination. But he still didn't know who it was.
Lately, however, the dreams had been getting clearer. The flashes were lingering, the noises settling. A rustle of something soft rubbing against itself, wings spreading. Something tanned.
At first, he thought purgatory had sent him nuts.
"I'm dreaming of a frickin' bird. Ridiculous…"
But the further he travelled, the clearer it became.
Once he hit the river, the nightmares became hazy visions on top of his sight. He paced the river, seeing the rocks, and the trees, and the grass. But over the top, he saw black wings, a dark silhouette.
That night, it was the worst. His whole body shook with fear while he slept. He was tired, and hungry, and cold. His dreams were getting heart-wrenchingly painful. There was a physical pain in his chest.
He didn't know what sat him up that morning.
A noise.
There it was again.
Coming from downriver. He unsheathed his knife, and followed it. A splash, a fluttering of wings. 'Dinner, if I can catch it.' The flash of tan blurred in his mind. He blinked the vision away, intent on food.
What he found took his breath away.
"Cas…"
The man who was his angel looked up. A flash of fear and another flash of pure joy crossed his face.
"Dean."
He didn't know what propelled his body, all he knew was his arms were wrapped around Cas, and his head nuzzled into his neck. He was warm, so warm. Cas awkwardly patted him on the back. Then, Dean couldn't hold it in anymore.
He had been through… well, hell. He was tired, his sleep broken by nightmares and fear. He was hungry, he hadn't eaten anything but boiled snail since he got here. He was cold, so cold.
And, without knowing it, he realised that Cas was who he had been dreaming of. The wings, the silhouette. The flashes of blue.
And then, Dean cried. Huge, wracking sobs that jerked his body. He sank to the ground, wailing, crying, sobbing, dragging Cas down with him. 'I always drag Castiel down with me…' And that made him cry harder. Cas didn't know what to do. So, gently, he wiped Dean's face with his coat. Dean flinched and looked up at him, eyes brimming. "C-cas. I'm s-so sorry… It's all my fault…All… my… fault…" And he sobbed again.
He felt the soft presence of the angel in his head for a moment, then it was gone. He cried out. "N-no! Come back…" Castiel cocked his head. The presence seeped back in, slowly, cautiously. Dean sighed, comforted. The sobs turned to sniffles, and Cas' hands soothed Dean's back. Cas' presence soothed Dean's mind.
They just sat and held each other.
Dean shivered violently in his sleep. His nightmares these days were full of the deaths of the ones he loved. His Sammy, his father, his mother. Various faces from their travels popped up too. People he felt responsible for. But mostly, he dreamed good dreams. Full of the people he loved. Sammy, playing like a normal kid, his father, and his mother, watching over them like normal parents.
And he dreamed of Castiel, in all his beauty, spending the rest of their lives together.
As friends.
As brothers.
As lovers…