A/N: SO… I've had these two headcanons for a while (about Dean's makeshift graveyard and the father's day incident) and I wanted to write them out. This was not intended to be long and yet somehow, here we are, 5800+ words later. This is the most angsty thing I've ever written and feel free to hate me for it because I kind of hate me for it too. Again, no beta, so all mistakes are mine. I might add/change more later, but I doubt it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters from the show mentioned in this story. Unfortunately, I also don't own "Hey Jude." If I did I wouldn't have student loans.
Anyone who has met Dean Winchester knows the guy has some issues. Most everyone he and Sam have met in their travels has mentioned their seemingly unhealthy bond with each other. What these people don't know (or perhaps they just don't realize it) is that Dean practically raised his little brother.
Don't get Dean wrong; John Winchester tried his best after Mary died. Their dad hadn't been a fantastic dad but neither boy could deny that he always tried to be there for them. Even when Sam was leaving for Stanford, John made sure that his younger son's car was in working order and that he had enough money to get him to the west coast without issue. Not that Sam knew that, John made Dean promise not to tell Sam where the money came from.
It all started that night when Sam was six months old and Dean carried him out of their burning house without hesitation. Since then it was Dean's job to make sure his baby brother was safe and sound. Dean never complained about raising Sam. How could he? And anyways if Dean was being honest with himself, he liked it because it was one of the few things he was good at. Even when Dean was just a little kid himself he always took care of his baby brother. He learned how to change diapers when he was five so their dad wouldn't have to. Dean taught Sam how to walk and his first words were "Dean hug" which the older brother never mentioned to their father, not wanting to hurt him further.
Usually Dean hid his insecurities about this issue well – Sam probably didn't even know, not that Dean would tell him. It was just that sometimes Dean started to feel useless. His little brother wasn't so little anymore and to be quite frank, he didn't need Dean. Hell, he was probably better off without Dean. No, that was one thing Dean knew for sure, his little brother would be much better off if Dean had never come to get him at Stanford. He'd probably be married to Jessica or some other girl by now and working at a law firm. Married with a kid on the way. The whole normal, boring, apple-pie life that both boys had always secretly wanted.
Sometimes though… sometimes Dean couldn't help but get upset. It was only natural, considering how bone jarringly human he was after coming back from hell and now purgatory. It wasn't something they talked about but once or twice a year Dean would leave whatever hotel they were staying at in the middle of the night without Sam and not come back for a couple days. Sam accepted it as Dean needing to blow off some steam. He imagined his brother binge drinking and hooking up with tons of random women and dudes, because as much as Dean would like to deny it, Sam knew that his brother swung both ways. He didn't care. That wasn't even sort of what Dean did when he left. Sure, he got drunk, really drunk most nights, but he didn't sleep with randoms. Not like this.
It had been almost a year since Dean had left Sam at a motel to go blow off some steam. But this case they'd been working… something happened and it had taken all of Dean's willpower to last until they got back to the motel. He threw some clothes in his bag and grabbed the Impala keys before grunting the previously agreed upon signal word to his little brother, "Sanctuary." Sam nodded and let Dean go without questioning him – it wouldn't help anyway, Dean wouldn't answer his questions. He'd noticed that his brother was unusually tense and thought it might do him some good.
Dean sped out of the motel parking lot and drove through the night. He drove until he couldn't see straight and then at 3:30 in the morning he pulled over on the side of the road and curled up in the back seat. Within minutes of lying down and just let himself breathe, Dean felt the wall come crumbling down around him. Tears started falling down his face and Dean curled up into himself, praying to whatever was listening that he'd fall asleep soon. He was very careful not to think of the name, the name of the one person he wished would show up, because he knew if he did his angel would show up and he would see Dean crying. And ultimately he would blame himself and that would just be another reason for Dean to hate himself.
Eventually though Dean felt himself slipping out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke it was because there was a tapping on the window, a cop was standing there with a sad smile on his face. "You alright in there, son?" Dean sat up and yawned, nodding sleepily at the cop, "Yeah officer. Just needed a quick catnap. I'll be getting on the road again in a minute." The cop nodded, satisfied with his answer, and left to walk back to his car.
Dean stepped out of the backseat into the sunlight, stretching as he did. He was getting way too old to be sleeping six hours in the back seat of his car comfortably. He rolled his neck from side to side, hearing the satisfying cracks made some of the tension in his shoulders ease as Dean got back into the drivers seat and started the Impala again. He was only four hours from Lawrence and wasn't planning on stopping until he got there. They had energy bars and water in the Impala, Dean could eat those until he got to his favorite diner that his mom used to take him to when they were little.
The radio was playing a CD that Sam had left in the car and it wasn't any music that Dean liked but he let it play. He didn't want to listen to his music right now, there was too many things attached to it.
Four hours later Dean pulled into Garrison's Diner in Lawrence, Kansas, and got out of the car to stretch again. He locked the doors of baby and walked into the diner, smiling immediately as the owner screamed "Dean Winchester, is that you?!" The hunter nodded and opened his arms to hug the elderly woman, Madge, whom Dean had known since he was three years old. "It's me Madge."
Madge pulled back from the hug after a few moments and put both her hands on Dean's face to inspect it, frowning, "You got old Dean." The lovely green-eyed boy laughed and smiled down at her, "And you didn't! What's your secret Madge? Is it your pie? It's gotta be the pie." She smiled and patted his cheek, "Oh now Dean, if you want pie all you have to do is ask." The boy had always had a thing for pie, for as long as she'd known him.
Dean laughed and moved to sit at the counter before grabbing a menu, "I think I'll have a burger and a slice of your amazing apple pie. And some coffee if you don't mind." Madge smirked and walked back behind the counter before ringing the bell and calling out his order to her husband. "So Dean, how are you?" The question sounded innocent enough. Don't see someone for two years and you'd probably ask them the same question. But Dean only came to town when something was wrong. Usually it was because he missed his mom; sometimes it was because he was having problems with his little brother, but one time a few years ago it was because Sam had died. Then suddenly he was back. Madge never understood the Winchester boys but she never asked.
"I'm… alright. How about you? The diner still doing well? Is Walt giving you any trouble? Want me to straighten him out?" He took the cup of coffee that Madge passed to him with a grateful smile and took a sip. Dean had always liked Madge, then again there wasn't anything to dislike. She made a damn good pie, a damn good cup of coffee, and her husband made the best burgers this side of the Mississippi.
Madge smiled at him knowingly, "We're doing well Dean. Diner's suffered a bit since the economy tanked but eh, what can you do?" She walked around the counter and sat down next to the young man and touched his arm gently, "How's Sammy? Good?"
"He's…" Dean shrugged and smiled a little, "He's, y'know, Sam. Smart, tall, an obnoxious killjoy. The usual. He eats organic now." Madge rolled her eyes and exhaled exaggeratedly which made Dean laugh. An older man walked out from the kitchen carrying Dean's order with him, "Is that the damn Winchester boy I see over there talking to my wife?"
Dean stood up and laughed, taking the food from Walt and setting it down on the counter before pulling the old man into a hug. "Walt, you ugly bastard, how are you?" The Garrisons had always been incredibly welcoming to Dean and they were one of the few people that weren't in the life that Dean still kept in touch with. Walt and Madge had watched the boys once or twice when they were little and John was on a job. Sam always joked that Walt was the original Bobby.
"Still better looking than you Dean-o." Walt hugged Dean back, manly of course, and smacked his back lovingly before pulling back. "You got a girl yet? This one over here keeps asking me when we're gonna have grand children and you two are the closest thing we got to kids. So how about it, knock anybody up?" This made Dean smile because he guessed this was what having normal parents felt like. "No, not yet Walt. Been a bit busy."
Madge got up from her seat and smacked her husband's arm lightly and pulled him away, "We'll let you eat dear. Make sure you say goodbye before you leave." Dean nodded and kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, "Good to see you." He never stuck around too long after eating here. It was nice at first but it always seemed to make Dean a little sad after a while. They were lovely and he called to check up on them from time to time, sending them money once in a while when he could, but leaving was always hard for Dean and it was getting harder. The Garrisons weren't getting any younger and Dean was usually worried that they'd die while he and Sam were on a hunt and he wouldn't find out until the next time he had an emotional breakdown and came to Lawrence to sort himself out.
He ate his food in silence and watched the people coming in and out of the diner with little interest. None of them looked familiar, and why would they? Dean hadn't lived here since he was four years old and his mom died. Even if he did happen to see someone he knew, he probably wouldn't recognize them. When Dean was done he found Madge and gave her a fifty, promising to stop back in for some pie to go before he left. She tried to give him the money back but he insisted, reminding her how much pie he was probably going to order.
His next stop was the general store in town. Dean was glad that Jim wasn't working because he wasn't sure if he could take seeing another person he knew and acting normal around them. He bought some flowers, some ramen noodles, a travel pie and three bottles of whiskey. The kid at the cash register gave Dean a quizzical look, which Dean used as an opportunity to really freak him out. "Anniversary." The teenager's eyes got bigger and purely to screw with him, Dean grabbed a thing of condoms from the counter and slid them over with a smug smile on his face.
Dean walked out of the general store laughing hysterically; the kid had turned so red and literally could not form words. They were supposed to tell all the customers to have a good day when they left but he couldn't manage, picturing this particularly sad sounding anniversary.
The drive to Dean's final destination wasn't a long one. Their childhood home was about ten minutes outside of the 'downtown' area of Lawrence and it was in the opposite direction of where most people lived. There was a dirt road about a mile up from the house that a family had rebuilt. This was the road Dean always took because it meant he could park the Impala for however long he wanted without having to explain himself to the family.
When Dean was a teenager he took the Impala one night and drove back to Lawrence, Kansas, and made her a grave in the woods behind their house. Since there hadn't been a body to bury, John never bothered to get a headstone. Dean didn't know why but the thought of there not being a permanent marker of his mother's existence on the earth bothered the hell out of him so he made her a headstone out of a broken piece of sidewalk. He couldn't bring himself to write her name on it though, not sure of what to write under it, so instead he just wrote "Mom." When John died, Dean went back and added another marker there, right next to his mom's. After Sam and Adam got trapped in the cage, Dean added two other markers. When Sam came back Dean left that marker up. After Dean got back from Purgatory, he brought another marker to use for Castiel, figuring he would be stuck there. Now Cas was back and Dean had come to take it down.
There were other reasons why he'd needed the break. He missed Mary, which was nothing new. He missed his dad, the damn bastard. He missed Bobby most of all if he was being honest with himself and Dean had never really felt great knowing that Adam was still in the cage with Michael and Lucifer – especially after Sam lost his marbles. But those were things that plagued Dean on a day-to-day basis; he could usually block them out. This time was different. This last case was too close to home for Dean. A vamp cell had come in and killed a whole bunch of people in this town. Unfortunately for the two boys Sam and Dean met their second day in town, one of the vampires decided that Alex and Jacob's parents would be a good midnight snack. This left Alex in a position that was all too familiar to Dean: raising his younger brother. What made it even worse for Dean was the way that Sam just didn't get it – he didn't understand why Dean was so affected by these boys, he didn't understand why Dean was hurt when Sam called Alex a dick who "needed a reality check" because he "wasn't his dad." He and Sam had that fight one too many times when the taller Winchester was a teenager.
Dean often wondered if Sam ever really knew how much Dean did for him as a kid. It's not like Dean would ever ask Sam that question, he would never ask for recognition of his sacrifices, regardless of how big they were. Whenever something like this happened two incidences would always replay themselves in Dean's mind: the father's day that Sam thought Dean was his dad and the father's day that Sam said he hoped Dean would burn in hell. The last one was a little on the nose for a fifteen year old and ever since coming back from hell, it had made him especially uncomfortable. Stupid psychic demon blood or whatever the fuck it was that made Sam so annoying.
The second worst day of Dean's life (now that he thinks about it, it might be the eighth worst day of his life…) was the father's day after Sam told John he was going to Stanford in the fall. Dean had gotten in the middle of that fight, trying to keep the peace, and given up because it hurt too much to see them arguing like that. He ended up crashing with Bobby for a week because he couldn't go home and hear them fight. Father's Day was the weekend after that and Sam asked Dean to come home but didn't want to do anything for or with John. Said he didn't deserve it.
Not that Dean was under the impression that John was the perfect dad or anything (even back then Dean was aware of his father's failings, no matter how much he wished he wasn't) but that seemed incredibly harsh to Dean. When he told Sam this they got into an even bigger fight and Sam said something about how Dean was on John's side and Dean told Sam he was being selfish and Sam got mad and tried to punch Dean. This of course did not go over well because Dean had been hunting more than Sam had so he was able to not only dodge the hit, but grab Sam's fist and twist the arm behind his back until he begged for mercy twice. When Dean let Sam go his little brother looked so hurt and angry that he left the house for six days, but not before telling Dean that he hoped he would "burn and rot in hell for being such a shitty brother." That was the moment Dean knew that no matter how much Sam wanting so badly to get away to college hurt him he had to support it. Because Sam needed someone to support him and if Dean didn't do it, no one ever would. John was that stubborn and Bobby wasn't as close with Sam. It was up to Dean. Besides, it's what his mom would want.
Dean always did what his mom would want. It is both a curse and a blessing because it has stopped him from doing some pretty damning things over the years. Yes, Dean Winchester would have killed a lot more humans than he'd care to admit if his mom hadn't been such a good person or such an important influence in his life. Dean's mind always contrasted that awful memory with the one memory Sam didn't even remember, but Dean would never forget.
After Mary died there were a couple months where Sam and Dean stayed in a hotel with their dad. Then, after John got into hunting, the boys were often left to their own devices or with other hunters. Dean was five the first time he watched Sam alone, who was barely one at the time. It wasn't for long and Dean hadn't been meant to watch him by himself but there had been an emergency with the babysitter's family or boyfriend or whatever and Dean had to step up. Actually, Dean wasn't even sure if John knew about that. Probably not. He would have heard about it in John's drunken voice mails at some point.
But Dean was the one constant in Sam's young life. Sam's first word was "Dean." His first steps were to Dean. His first sentence was to Dean, "Dean hug?" John was there too, sporadically, but he was there and the preference of Dean over John never went unnoticed. The hardest moment for John was when he'd come home after a two week long hunt and Dean, who was then seven years old, had to show John how to calm a terrified Sam down because he didn't recognize his father. After that Dean had tried to push Sam more towards John whenever their father was around but it never seemed to work. Sam always wanted Dean. It never bothered him but he knew his dad's feelings were hurt and that was hard enough.
It was Sunday, June 21st, 1987. Father's Day. Sammy was four and Dean was eight. John had been away on a hunt for two months. Dean had been taking care of Sam mostly by himself the whole time with some help from the owner of the motel where they were living. She would come over and bring them food sometimes, take them to the movies if the motel was full, etc. Sam had celebrated his birthday last month, without dad, and had asked Dean for a bike. Obviously Dean couldn't get Sam a bike (well, he could, but honestly the only reason he didn't was because he didn't know where any little kids lived so he could steal their bikes). Sam had assumed that it was because John didn't want him to have a bike.
Here's the thing about four year olds: they have no filter whatsoever. They're the cutest and most obnoxious little bastards you've ever seen. Sam was no exception to that rule. But while most little kids choose to be obnoxious about everything, Sam had somehow gotten it in his idea that Dean was his dad. He'd tried explaining it to his little brother that no, I'm not your dad Sammy, but Sam either didn't care or wasn't listening. Dean, for once, was grateful that John hadn't come home or called in a while because if he heard Sam call Dean dad he'd probably cry. Hell, Dean would probably cry. He was trying to be gentle but it wasn't working; Sam just wasn't getting it. Dean hadn't even remembered it was Father's Day, there was no reason to. But apparently Sam's pre-K teacher had told Sam all about the holiday and what you were supposed to do for your dad on it.
Which is how Dean Winchester ended up being woken up by his kid brother on a Sunday morning at the ungodly hour of ass-crack-o'clock (five thirty am). "Daa – " Sam caught himself, "Dean, wake up!"
Dean rolled over reluctantly and frowned at his little brother, "What is it Sam? Is everything okay?" Sam nodded, obviously very excited and bouncing the bed with his movements, "Get up! I have a surprise for you!" Dean groaned and tried to stuff his head back under the pillow, "Sammy it's not even the day time yet. Can't this wait?" Sam pulled Dean's arm so the boy was half in and half out of the motel bed, "Come on pleaaaaaseeee?" He did the puppy eyes for emphasis which only annoyed Dean but got him out of bed, "Fine. What is it?"
Sam pulled the eight year old into the kitchen area of the motel and sat him down at the table before running over to the counter and grabbing a tray of food (that he'd apparently stolen from McDonald's last night… Dean would have to talk to him about that later) with a card on it. The four year old carried it back to the table, walking slowly, and set it down in front of Dean. "Happy Father's Day Dean!" he almost screamed, way, way too loud for five thirty in the morning.
Somehow Sam had gotten Dean pancakes, bacon, and eggs (another thing Dean would have to talk to him about later… did he walk to McDonald's himself?). There was also a cup of coffee (bless Bobby for letting him try coffee), a handmade card, and a haphazardly wrapped… blob on the tray. Dean smiled at Sam, a little taken aback but nonetheless impressed, "This is awesome Sam. Thanks." Dean decided that he could add the fact that Dean isn't Sam's dad, and therefore doesn't get stuff like this on Father's day, to his growing list of things to talk to his younger brother about later.
Dean had opened the bottle of whiskey a long time ago. He was sitting against a tree facing his parent's headstones and crying. There was no noise coming from him, his mind was too wrapped up in the memories. The good and the bad. How much they all hurt. How much he wished he could explain it to someone, why he was so upset by Sam's words to the kid they'd just met.
Four-year-old Sam beamed up at his big brother and grabbed the card he'd made the previous day at school from the tray, "This is for you Dean. I made it after Mrs. Tyler told me you're supposed to give your dad a card on Father's Day."
If you've ever been punched in the gut you know what Dean was feeling at that moment. It was like the incredibly well intentioned little kid had stolen all the air from the room with that declaration. Dean stammered momentarily and was graciously interrupted by Sam who handed him the card and the wrapped blob from the tray, "Come on Dean open them! I made you a present!" Dean smiled weakly at his little brother and took them both from Sam, reading the card first. The front was a drawing of what Dean was guessing was meant to be Sam and Dean in front of a motel. The Impala was off to the side and it looked like there was a person sitting in the driver's seat (Dean assumed it was John). On the inside Sam had written Dean a 'letter' (it was more like a note and it looked like his teacher had written it):
"Dean,
I know you don't like it when I call you dad because you say it hurts our dad's feelings but he is not here so I am going to call you dad. Because dads play catch and make you breakfast and let you watch scary movies even though they're not supposed to. Dads protect you and love you and hold you when you're scared and help you get to sleep when you have a nightmare. You're the one who does that for me Dean."
The rest of it was clearly written in the four year old's messy handwriting, "Love Sammy." Sam was beaming at Dean expectantly and nudged him to open the little blob in his brother's hands, "Go on Dean." He did so reluctantly, still in shock from the card, and was greeted with a… black rectangle? "It's… awesome Sam," he said tentatively and tried to smile appreciatively. Dean had no idea what it was.
"It's the Impala!" Sam pulled himself up in the chair across from Dean and laid his head down on his arms, "I know how much you like it but I couldn't get you a car because cars are expensive. So I made you another one."
Dean wiped his face with the back of his hand and pulled the now embarrassingly old and taped together card out of his wallet to look at it. You could still read the note on the inside from Sam's teacher and the picture had faded some on the front, there was a rip in the middle and a splash of coffee, but Dean didn't care. From what Dean could surmise, Sam had no memory of this event. The little black Impala Sam had made him at school was in a safety deposit box that Dean had. The card had been there for the longest time but when Sam came back from the cage – er, well, when Dean knew he was back and he still had no soul – Dean had gone to get it. Ever since then he'd had it on him at all times. He'd even had to ask Cas to angel mojo heal it in Purgatory once. Benny made fun of him for weeks. He smoothed the card out over his leg and read the note as many times as he could before his vision became blurry. Dean took another gulp from the bottle of whiskey, which was now empty and threw the bottle in the general direction of Bobby's marker. And then Dean started talking.
At first the talking wasn't directed to anyone in particular. And then it was: "Dad you drunk bastard, I was just a kid, I didn't know what to do. We needed a father. Sammy needed a father. He deserved to be a kid dad. Even if I didn't, Sam did. And mom, I can't fucking believe you made that deal with a demon. You didn't listen to me. I told you not to get out of bed. I told you what would happen and you didn't care, you did it anyways. I needed you mom. Did you not want me? Was I not what you expected?
Bobby I don't think I can do this for much longer man. I don't know if I have it in me. For any of it – hunting, Sam, life… I'm so tired. I'm so tired and I don't know what to do without you here Bobby. You were like a dad to me. And I'm still worried about Sam and nobody's here to worry about me.
Adam I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you had John as a dad. I'm sorry about our last name. I'm sorry for the curse that comes with it. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry death or Cas or God hasn't saved you. I'm so sorry. I'll never not be sorry. You deserved better Adam. I wish I could give it to you.
Ellen… that was so fucking stupid. Staying. Why'd you have to stay? I don't… I would give anything to have you guys back. To have you and Jo alive and happy. I'm so sorry another Harvelle died because of a Winchester. I'm so sorry.
Jo shouldn't have died. She shouldn't have gotten hurt. You were such a good girl Jo and I helped you get into hunting. I didn't send you home like I should have. I didn't tell you to run and never look back – maybe if I had you'd still be alive right now. You wouldn't have died a badass and saved us. Cas tells me you guys are happy wherever you are but I don't know. I worry all the time.
Sammy… you're not dead. You're back in our motel room, probably calling Amelia or creepily stalking her on the Internet. Have I ever told you how proud I am of you? I'm proud of you. I'm also worried about you. I'm worried and conflicted and torn because I want you here, with me, hunting, for forever. But I still want what I've always wanted for you, a normal life. I'm so sorry I came back all those years ago at Stanford. I'm sorry I asked for your help. I should have let you be. You'd be a lawyer by now with a really good paying job. You and Jess (or someone else) would be married now and I'd probably be an uncle… I'm sorry I failed you Sam.
And Cas you feathery bastard, I know you're listening. I know you're somewhere close by listening to my drunk rambling because you always are whenever I come here. I hope you still haven't told anyone about it. They'd probably think I'm crazy… fuck, at this point, I might be crazy. I'd have no idea would I?"
He took a breath and pulled out the flask from his coat pocket, downing half of it in one go before speaking again. There was a slight ruffling behind Dean and suddenly another person was kneeling beside Dean, holding another bottle in his hand. Castiel spoke quietly and with a frown on his face, concerned by Dean's behavior, "A friend once told me it is unwise to mix liquors Dean…"
Dean didn't respond, he just leaned into Castiel's chest and cried. He cried for everything he couldn't fix and everything he couldn't undo. He cried because he missed his parents. He cried because he still hated himself for the whole Lisa and Ben fiasco. He cried for Adam. He cried because he missed Bobby. He cried for Sam and even for stupid fucking Kevin Tran who thought Dean was going to kill him and his mom. He cried for Benny and Amelia and Sam and Sam's stupid dog that smelled up the Impala. Cas sat and let Dean cry for a while. When he started to repeat the phrase "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over like a mantra, Cas started singing a song that Dean had sung to him in purgatory when he was upset.
Hey Jude… don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Castiel's voice was gruff and uncertain but Dean leaned into him even more, grateful for the song at this moment. The angel took this as a sign of approval from Dean and continued on,
Hey Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
Dean started humming along with Cas and calmed down a little, the song bringing back memories from when Dean was a really little kid and Mary would sing it to get him to go to sleep after a nightmare. He'd sung it for Sam when he had nightmares and so had John.
Hey Jude, don't let me down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And you don't know that it's just you, hey Jude, you'll do
The movement you need is on your shoulder
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
Hey Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her under your skin
Then you'll begin to make it
Better better better better better better, oh
By the end of the song Dean had started to fall asleep, exhausted emotionally and from being awake for so long without sleeping a full night. Cas ran a hand reassuringly through Dean's hair, trying to coax him to sleep, even if it was just for a little. He could almost see how tired Dean's soul was, how much weight he'd been carrying. "I'm not leaving Dean…" I'm not leaving you ever again. "Sleep."
Dean nodded, half asleep, and wrapped his arms even tighter around Cas. Even as he started to slip into a dreamless sleep, Dean knew that Cas would understand what the tightening his arms would mean. It meant thank you. It meant don't leave. It meant keep me safe. It meant I'm cold.
But mostly it meant I love you.