Preface
Sam's lips were open slightly in a manner that almost seemed surprised, yet his face was calm. This was a rare sight, as Sam Winchester never seemed to be relaxed, his brows almost always furrowed in intense concentration. He rarely slept - he and Castiel would often stay awake throughout the night, reading, researching, and sitting together in quiet thought, with only a slight murmur if something of use was found. Lately, that was a rare occasion too. Sam had been significantly more stressed recently, as though the weight of the world was laid heavily on his shoulders. Sometimes, Cas wished to comfort him, to make him feel even slightly less alone, yet he could never find the right words and so watched silently as his friend struggled. Things like this shouldn't bother him, really, yet he cared significantly for Sam, and had always felt that his safety was his responsibility. The Winchesters meant a great deal to Castiel, and he wished to protect them with all that he could offer. Sam had been gone for a while, swimming lost in his mind, oblivious, and though he sat in the same room, he wasn't Sam – not the Sam he knew. He was weak, distracted, frightened. Neither Cas nor Dean knew, or dared even ask, what was happening in the younger Winchester's mind, yet he always seemed to be somewhere far away. Castiel, who required no sleep, was the only one awake this night, sat on a wooden chair in the far corner, his legs crossed and his hands placed upon his knees. He often amused himself by listening to Sam mumbling under his breath as he dreamt, though lately it concerned him more and more and he couldn't bear to listen. They were dark things, dark memories, things he attempted to avoid with jobs that he couldn't avoid in his sleep, when his subconscious mind seeped through his barrier. He'd awaken every morning and it'd be as though nothing had happened, smiles, laughter, jokes and casual conversation, and Castiel would return this favour. Neither would mention anything. Sam Winchester was not the type to sob about his problems, to share with the world his concerns and his worries. No, Sam Winchester was the type to lock everything away inside a tiny little box in that clouded head of his, never to be released, never to be shared. This was perhaps his greatest flaw.