It was the fourth night that Cas had managed to stay at the "Batcave" with Dean and Sam without any hunts or...other interruptions. It was odd, to see them like this, Cas decided. Dean rose early every morning and made some kind of breakfast for the three of them. After breakfast, Sam would head to the library and pour himself into the leather-bound books he found to be useful and informative. Dean would do many things during the day, as he was so restless. He would start by making sure all of the guns were in working condition, just in case he had said. Then he would sneak a book into his room and read it when he thought Sam and Cas weren't looking, but of course Cas learned of Dean's habit rather quickly. Later, Dean would look for hunts near by to start with, then farther away if he didn't get any results. Dean would check the supplies and go to get more if they needed any. All the while, Sam was learning new things to help them on future hunts and looking for a few without Dean's knowledge, and Cas was silently watching the brothers... assimilate.

The Winchesters make more physical contact now as well. Dean almost always puts a hand on Cas's shoulder or grabs his arm when he is talking. Sometimes, Dean's hands brush against his and Cas can't help but notice the kind of breathlessness that comes about whenever he does. Cas's hands brush back under the table to let Dean know that, yes, he is here, and, no, he isn't leaving again. Sam does it too, though his gestures lack the intimacy that Dean's bring. Sam's pats on the arm or friendly claps on the back seem to occur simply so that Cas cannot forget that he actually is there in the bunker with the two boys for which he gave up so much. Whether the contact comes from Dean or Sam, Cas appreciates the gesture and hopes it isn't just a passing trend.

It was the fourth night that Cas started to sleep. And, unfortunately with that sleep came the nightmares. Painful memories of Heaven flooded his subconscious reminding him of all the things Naomi had done to break him, only to rebuild him again, properly. He was forced to relive the dark weeks in which he was cut off from interaction with anyone except Naomi. The echoes of Dean's voice pleading with him to stop were dredged up and were headlined in he vivid nightmares. Such things didn't plague him during the day, for he would not allow it. But, at night, Castiel seemed to have no control over his mind. He awoke in a cold sweat the fourth night, and found it impossible to return to his slumber until the first rays of sunlight shone brilliantly on the land surrounding the Winchesters' home.

The fifth day passed in somewhat of a blur for Cas. He simply went through the motions. Busying himself with mindless tasks, he tried to keep his mind from straying to the dark corners of his mind where, if all was silent, he could clearly hear Dean's voice crying out in agony at Castiel's touch, and where he could see Dean's bloody and battered body, as if the real thing were crumbled right before him. The brothers did not notice a change in Cas's behavior or, if they did, they were very good at hiding it. Dean cracked a couple jokes, and Sam smiled and might even have laughed at one, a true laugh, unlike the one Cas offered. Cas's laugh remained hollow and somewhat broken, but if the boys could tell, they didn't show it.

On the fifth night, Cas curled into his bed and tightly bundled the soft blankets around him. He lay like that for a while, breathing steadily, eyes open, adjusting to the darkness. He failed to notice when his eyelids became to heavy and slowly closed, sending Cas of to his dreams. Again, the night was plagued with nightmares; only this time Cas found he couldn't wake himself. He tossed and turned until most of the blankets tumbled to the floor. Cas didn't notice when he let out a cry of "Please! I won't kill him!" However, Dean did.

Dean woke with a start to hear Cas shout again. Dean stumbled out of his room and into the hallway, glancing towards Sam's room before continuing towards Cas's door. His hand hovered inches from the door, debating on whether or not to knock; it would be the polite thing, after all. But, upon hearing Cas for a third time, he opened the door, knocking forgotten, and rushed to Cas's side. He placed a hand on Cas's shoulder, timidly at first, and tried to wake him.

"Cas!"

Castiel looked around at all the dead Deans in front of him. He knew Naomi was somewhere off to the side, watching, ready to punish Cas if he did not follow through. But, all of the sudden, he heard Dean's voice shouting his name. However, that was impossible since dead men cannot talk, but there it was again, and soon Cas was pulled from his sleep to find a sleepy-eyed Dean standing over him with a worried expression. Dean asked Cas if he is alright, and Cas responded with a stiff nod that doesn't seem to convince Dean all too much because worry was still plain in his features and he's telling Cas that he should sit up.

Dean climbed next Castiel on the bed and wrapped a blanket and an arm protectively around him. Dean could barely hear the soft drop of water onto the sheets, but when he looked over at Cas he could see the trails they have left on Cas's cheeks. So, Dean shifted so that Cas had no choice but to rest on Dean's chest, and so the righteous man began comforting his fallen angel with soft words and gentle touches. Cas fell asleep after ten minutes feeling safe and warm in the hunter's arms. Dean followed Cas's example and walked back to his own room and into the land of dreams not long after, but not before he learned just how right it felt to have Cas in his arms.

The sixth day passed much to the same effect as the last few. Dean and Cas made little eye contact and shared tentative smiles when Sam wasn't around or when they simply couldn't help themselves. However, one thing seemed clear, they would not speak of the night before because Cas was an Angel of the Lord and didn't need comforting and Dean was a hunter and definitely did not do the whole chick-flick thing. So, they carried on the same way they had the previous days.

Night came, and Castiel found himself in the same situation as he had the night before. Naomi and her "exercises" hauntingly bright and familiar. Dean heard Cas's cry again, and again he snuck over to the angel's room. He woke Cas the same way he had the night before, and looked down into the same scared blue eyes. It was then that Dean realized just how fragile his angel could be. So, he told Cas to give him a little room and he slid under the covers, he had to be comfortable didn't he, next to the fallen angel. Cas looked in shock as Dean settled down beside him.

The hunter opened his eyes and found two perfect blue ones staring back at him in the night. They seemed confused, as if Dean had no reason for lying next to Castiel. So, Dean placed an arm around Cas's waist and pulled him close. Suddenly the distance between them was minimal, and Dean and Cas found themselves nose-to-nose and chest-to-chest. Cas continued to look at Dean with a confused twinkle in his eye and Dean simply couldn't resist any longer. He leaned forward and closed the gap between his lips and Cas's. The kiss was sweet and gentle and was over much to soon, but Dean pulled away anyway and drifted off into peaceful sleep. Cas stared at Dean a while longer before leaning into the hunter's chest and falling into a sleep without being plagued by the horrors that lurked in his subconscious.

That's how Sam found them the next morning, tangled up in each other smiling softly in their dreams. Sometimes, Sam had thought Dean and Cas would realize their feelings for each other all at once. He had thought it would take some moment of danger for the two to look into each other's eyes and realize that they did in fact love each other. It would be easy to admit, in their last moments before death. But, now, Sam was happy that it happened just like this. Gradually, more of an accident really.