Dean's eyelids felt heavy as they slid open, his eyes widening as he took in the darkness of his bedroom. He rolled over onto his side to look at the clock on his bedside table, and groaned when it read only a little past three in the morning. He had only been asleep for about an hour. His mouth was dry and tasted bitter, and his throat stung slightly when he swallowed. After a short internal debate over whether it was worth getting out of bed, Dean threw the covers off of himself and drowsily stumbled down the bunker hallway to the kitchen. He flicked on a light and pulled a glass from the cupboard to fill it with tap water before shuffling out to the living room. His intention was to sit down for a few minutes before going back to bed; however, he was not alone.

"What are you doin' up, Cas?" Dean asked the figure sitting on the couch, his voice a bit raspy from sleep. Cas turned to look at Dean, clearly not having expected the company. He was wearing a borrowed white V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants. But Dean was surprised to see that Cas' eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks were stained with dry tears. Cas opened his mouth to answer, closed it again, and repeated this several times before giving up and dropping his head in his hands. Dean rushed to sit next to his friend, abandoning his glass of water on the coffee table and putting a hand on Cas' shoulder.

"Hey, hey. What's up, man?" Dean asked in a concerned tone. When Cas finally looked up from his hands, his face was wet with fresh tears.

"It's just that…I'm finding that human emotions are extremely difficult to subdue," Cas croaked. Dean just nodded.

"I was attempting to sleep," Cas continued, "but I was unable to stop thinking about Metatron and the angels, and then…" He waved his hands to gesture at his face. "I can't seem to stop…Why can't I stop?" The last word was barely choked out as a sob, and Cas let his head fall into his hands again. Dean rubbed several soothing circles over his friend's back.

"I know, Cas, it sucks. Feelings suck. Sometimes there's nothing you can really do about them except, you know, let 'em out, like you're doing now. And it's totally ok to do that."

"It's just so…inconvenient," Cas nearly whispered, muffled through his hands. His shoulders began to shake with more sobs, and Dean put his arm around Cas' shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

"Just get it all out, Cas," Dean said. At that Cas lifted his head to bury it in Dean's shoulder. He stopped trying to hold back what he had kept to himself up to then. The raw human emotions he had been carrying with him clawed their way out- guilt, anguish, fear, and utter hopelessness. As he cried into Dean's shirt, Dean continued to rub Castiel's back in a comforting manner, back and forth. They sat that way for about a half an hour until eventually Cas began to feel a little bit better, but mostly just worn out. His chest rose and fell in a mostly steady manner as his breathing was no longer choked by sobs. When Cas pulled away to run a hand over his face, Dean leaned forward to grab the glass of water from the table, which had remained untouched. He offered it to the man next to him, who drank it gratefully.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said a bit hoarsely.

"Any time, Cas."

"I'm sorry for keeping you up. And…" Cas gestured at the wet spot he had left on Dean's shirt.

"It's no problem, Cas. Really," Dean assured. "I think I'm gonna head back to bed, if that's okay. You probably should too."

Cas nodded and Dean gave his shoulder one last squeeze before standing up. He walked several feet before he heard Cas call his name.

"Yeah?" he answered, turning to face him again.

"Lately when I sleep, I've been having nightmares. Waking from them alone is…unpleasant. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable but would you be alright with me spending the night in your room?" Cas looked at Dean with big and pleading eyes and, damn, it was as though he had been taking lessons from Sam.

"Yeah, sure. Yeah, that'd be fine," Dean said, nodding.

Cas followed a few steps behind Dean to his bedroom, still sniffing occasionally. He stood in the doorway for a few moments and yawned, squinting in the light of the bedside lamp Dean just turned on. If Cas was still an angel, he wouldn't have to bother with all these things- the crying, the yawning, the squinting, all such human things. But his mind was only half focused on this as he debated whether he was to sleep in Dean's bed or if he should retrieve a blanket and sleep on the floor. Cas couldn't deny the relief he felt as Dean opened his closet and pulled out a spare pillow to throw onto the bed next to his own. The hunter slid back into bed and patted the empty space next to him, waiting until Cas was situated before clicking off the bedside lamp and pulling the blankets up over them both.

Normally, Cas thinks, Dean would have just laughed off the idea of letting his friend sleep in his bed with him. Normally Dean would have just given Cas a nice layer of blankets and a pillow to sleep on the floor next to his bed, or even would have given Cas the bed and just have slept on the floor himself. But Dean almost always seemed to know what his friend needed, and tonight was no exception. Tonight Cas needed to feel comforted and reassured that he would be alright. So Dean turned until his chest was pressing lightly to Castiel's back and gently draped an arm over his friend's waist. Comforting touches that assured Castiel of his presence. The rise and fall of Dean's chest against his back and the steady breath in his ear soon lulled Cas into a deep sleep.

With sleep came unconscious terror for Castiel. He saw his brothers and sisters falling from paradise, unceremoniously hitting the cold, hard Earth. He saw Metatron stealing his grace, and the ground rushing towards him. The wind blew through his hair in a way similar to when he was flying. Falling was so, so much more terrifying than flying. There was searing pain in the space between his shoulder blades, which Cas knew was that of his wings being scorched off.

Just before he hit the ground, Cas awoke from his nightmare, sitting upright and breathing heavily. It took a moment of letting his eyes adjust to the darkness (another inconvenient 'human thing'), looking around the room, and finally looking at the stirring figure next to him to convince himself he was still secure in Dean's bedroom. Dean, awakened by Cas' sudden movements, rolled onto his back and pulled himself into a sitting position. It took Dean only a moment to assess the situation before pulling Cas into a hug.

"Dean, I-" Cas began in a panicked tone, but dean interrupted him.

"Hey, shh, it's okay Cas. You're safe," Dean murmured in his ear, idly carding a hand through Castiel's hair. Cas nodded, his chin bumping Dean's shoulder. Something wet rolled down his cheek and, damn it, he was crying again.

"You're safe," Dean repeated. "I gotcha, you're safe." Cas managed to collect himself much more easily this time and pulled away from Dean after a few more seconds.

"I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you tonight, Dean," Cas said.

"It's no trouble, Cas. I mean it." Castiel met Dean's green eyes, which were filled with sincerity. Dean looked at the clock. "It's only five in the morning. You think you can go back to sleep?" Dean asked.

"I…I will try," Cas answered. Dean kept an arm around Cas' back as they both lay down again. He lay flat on his back, letting Cas curl into his side. Cas put an arm around Dean's belly and rested his head on the other man's chest. Hearing Dean's heartbeat reassured Cas that Dean was there, alive and well.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas murmured sleepily.

"I'm here for you, Cas."