"Ungh," came a sleepy moan as Cas intently watched Dean stir in his sleep.

"Dean, are you awake?" came Castiel's low voice through the darkness.

"I am now," yawned Dean as he pushed himself up onto his elbows on the memory foam mattress. He squinted at the green numbers on the alarm clock next to his bed in the Men of Letters bunker before turning to look at the fallen angel. "It 3:00 AM, man, why are you up?"

"I had a nightmare." Cas replied without further elaboration.

"Whaddya want me to do about it?" Dean slurred, drowsy from just having woken up, "I'm not getting up until I've had my four hours."

When he received no response, Dean thought further about the dream he'd just been having, wondering and worrying about whether or not Cas had been able to see it. "How long have you been standing there?" he inquired, turning away to switch on his bedside lamp, before realizing Castiel could no longer see into his dreams.

"Long enough. Dean, I like watching over you. Are you aware of the fact that you drool?"

"Are you aware of the fact that you're a dick?" Dean muttered under his breath before turning back to the former angel, "You do realize you've got to sleep, right? It sucks, but you're human now, so…" He trailed off, finally noticing the dried tears on Castiel's face, and the hidden emotion struggling to reveal itself in his steely blue eyes.

"Dean," Cas croaked.

Dean didn't know how to respond. He knew the transition to humanity had been outwardly easy for Castiel, after so many centuries of watching humans. But he also knew that inwardly Cas had taken the fall hard. Despite his good intentions, Cas had locked all of his brothers and sisters out of their home, possibly forever- he had failed heaven once again. All the poor dude ever wanted to do was help, Dean thought to himself, And he has saved my ass plenty of times.

Sighing, Dean gestured for his friend to sit down on the edge of his bed. Cas sat down gingerly, still spooked from his nightmare. It was weird to see Castiel-Angel-of-the-Lord, a powerful celestial being, as a frightened weak human. But here Dean Winchester, the righteous man, was helping God's little soldier get over a bad dream in the middle of the middle of the night. This could turn into a chick-flick moment way too easily. Awesome. Just awesome.

"So…Cas, what was your nightmare about?" No response. Awesome. Just awesome. "Cas! Talk to me!"

Castiel attempted to collect himself for a moment before answering, "It was my fault, Dean, my fault."

"What was your fault, Cas? You're not making sense here."

"I had a nightmare. About my brethren being cast from heaven. Namoi warned me that Metatron was lying, but I wouldn't listen. I watched them fall, every last one of my brothers. It was my fault. Naomi warned me… I should have listened." Then lower, in a voice he didn't realize Dean would hear, "Why didn't I listen?"

"Cas, buddy, it wasn't your fault. That Naomi bitch had lied to you. She'd controlled you. It wouldn't have made sense to trust her."

"DEAN. It was my fault. I failed heaven- AGAIN!" Cas was nearly shouting at this point. Dean paused for a few seconds, waiting to see if the yelling had woken up Sam. By some miracle it hadn't.

"You listen to me, Castiel" Dean said as firmly and as ferociously as he could muster at this early hour. He reached out a hand to Cas, gently squeezing his shoulder to punctuate each word. "You. Did. Not. Know. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Castiel's eyes were less angry and upset than before, but there was still a certain fear, accompanied by an astonishing sadness. Dean faltered a bit as he continued in a softer tone, "We'll figure it out Cas, we always do."

"…I know," came the timid response. But there's more. Cas wanted to say. He wanted to tell Dean about the rest of his nightmares, the ones he'd been having since he'd gotten back from purgatory. But Cas knew that he couldn't. Dean was tired, and he thought Cas was fine. So he had to be fine. Castiel pushed the thoughts of his other nightmares to the back of his mind, feigning serenity. Maybe, just maybe, he'd bring up the purgatory nightmares some other time. The possibility of that, however, seemed slim. He wouldn't know how to broach the subject with Dean, and even if he could, he didn't know how to have the conversation without hurting- or possibly even scaring- Dean. He prayed, even though he knew that there was no longer anyone for him to pray to, until he finally was at peace.

Dean could tell that Cas was finally calm, if weary from his outburst. They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, Dean propped up against his pillows, gripping Castiel's shoulder in a way all too similar to how the angel had held his own when raising him from perdition. Neither of them spoke for the longest time, they just stared at each other as if they'd never seen the other in their lives. There was nothing else to say. Not for the moment, anyway.

Cas was the one who finally broke the silence. "You're hurting me, Dean," he stated simply, glancing slightly towards his shoulder. Dean, suddenly aware of the awkwardness of the situation, scrambled away.

What had before been amicable quiet became uncomfortable silence. At long last, Dean cleared his throat, glancing at the clock. 6:00 AM- an acceptable hour to be up. "There's, uh, there's coffee in the kitchen." Dean says it like a question.

"Thank you Dean," Cas said as he stands up. It was evident to Dean that he was talking about more than just the coffee. The fallen angels can be dealt with later, as long as Cas is fine for now, he thought to himself. Stealing one last worried look at the former angel, Dean stood up as well. Together they went out to face the morning.