A new story
I still don't own Supernatural :(
Dean stumbled into bed. Sam had made his own way after only a shot of whiskey and a couple of slices of toast. Dean had stayed up but now the exhaustion was setting in and a combination of tired limbs and too many drinks forced him to curl up into what looked like an uncomfortable position. Yet Dean sighed happily. Bed. Screw conciousness.
A knock at the door.
Dean made an incoherent noise into his pillow.
Another knock.
"Oh, shit." Dean raised himself up onto his elbows and sighed heavily.
"Come in"
Castiel stood at the door, looking down at his shoes.
Dean resisted the urge to yell. "Well?"
"I thought it polite to knock."
"You thought right, Cas."
"Good."
Dean stared at him. "What's the problem, Cas?" His voiced raised in annoyance.
"Well...I don't know...I don't quite know how to...deal with him. I'm not...aware of the protocol."
"Deal with who? What protocol?"
"Sam."
Dean continued to stare at Castiel, his eyebrows raised.
"With Sam?"
"He's...he's upset."
"Upset? Why? He was fine when he went to bed."
"He said, well, it was hard to tell, he was crying so hard."
"Crying?" Dean sat up a bit straighter. "God, what's happened?"
"Well, he said he was...scared."
Dean shook himself slightly. "Scared? What is he scared of?"
Castiel shifted from foot to foot.
"He said, well, he was scared that something was going to hurt him."
By this point Dean had slipped a on. Maybe Sam had had more to drink then he realised...because all of this sounded so bizarre.
"Right, okay. Thanks Cas. I'll go and see him. He's probably just had one too many. He was always an emotional drunk."
Castiel looked extremely confused by this comment but didn't say anything.
Dean heaved himself out of bed, preparing himself to deal with his younger brother. Part of him enjoyed these moments. Comforting his drunken brother was more normal than saving his life. That said, it was also rare for Sam to be drunker than he was.
Dean reached Sam's room and knocked twice.
"Sammy? Sam? You okay?"
He pressed his ear against the door. Cas was right. He could hear sobbing. Trying to hide his concern, Dean slowly opened the door into the darkened bedroom.
"Sam?"
"Dean? Dean!"
Dean's blood ran cold. His brothers voice sounded panicked and...young. So young.
He switched on the bedside light and almost yelled.
Sam stared back at him. His eyes wide, tears dropping down his red face, his hands wrung together.
"Dean...I had...I had the dream again."
Dean backed against the door.
Sam looked no older than ten.
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