A/N Horribly late. No excuses.
Sam watched him sleeping.
Normally, the muscles along Dean's jaw worked. Even when he didn't want you to know he was concerned, there was the tell-tale flexing.
Dean didn't grind his teeth – it wasn't stress – not in the usual sense. It was tension. Sam had noticed it since he was a kid.
Dean was always tense.
And now. Sam realised Dean would never have peace.
Dean would never stop worrying.
And that twitch while he slept?
Sam knew that that was Dean reliving hell, every single night.
And he knew there was nothing he could do about it.
Except stay.