Darkness. All he sees is the darkness swallowing him up. Pain, anger, fear, guilt, and every negative emotion he's ever had crash down upon him. And it's too hot. He feels like his skin is melting and it's worse because the fire is inside. The flames lick at his soul, his broken mind, and no one comes when he calls for help. There's no questioning where he is.

It's so loud. There are too many people. Too many other souls screaming out in the darkness. He can't hear himself think. He can't do much of anything. He sits on a throne in a great room made with marble walls. He's surrounded by demons and their true faces twist in delight at the sight of their new king. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to be here. But no matter how much he screams for help, no one comes to his rescue. Not this time. He's alone. All alone in a sea of corruption and sin.

"Dean!"

Cas? His ears perk up at the sound of his name. He hasn't heard his angel in what feels like a century. Maybe it's been that long. Who knows down here anyway? Despite the fatigue settled over his being, he reaches out with what little strength he has left. Reaching towards that presence that's become his salvation.

Cas is nowhere to be found. No matter how hard he looks, he doesn't see the angel amongst the smoggy mass of demons. He starts to panic. Is he already hallucinating? He tries to call Cas' name but no sound comes out. His eyes widen and he claws at his throat, suddenly feeling like he's suffocating.

"Oh Dean," tuts a familiar voice. "You know better than to think you'll ever escape me,"

He can't be here. Sam killed him years ago. But he turns and Alastair's ugly form grins at him.

"We're going to have so much fun, aren't we Dean?" he says.

Dean wakes up in a cold sweat, throat raw from screaming. Cas is looking down at him with worry scrunching his brow. Sam stands next to him, looming over the bed like a giant.

He raises a shaky hand to his head and wipes away the sweat and the tears he's ashamed have formed in his eyes. Cas and Sam try to talk to him, but he remains stubbornly silent. There's nothing to talk about.

There's no use going back to sleep, so he goes out for some air despite how much rest his body desperately needs after spending so much time in the pit. He contemplates getting spectacularly wasted to forget everything but ultimately decides that the headache in the morning and the things he might spew while inebriated aren't worth it. Instead, he ends up in the Impala, calming himself down with some music. He stares at the ceiling, tries to blink away the afterimage of Hell that's burned onto the inside of his eyelids.

He jumps about a mile in the air when Cas knocks on the window, biting down hard on his lip to stifle the instinctual scream that threatens to escape. Cas gives him an apologetic look.

"Sorry for startling you, Dean," he says when Dean opens the door for him.

"It's fine, Cas," he replies, focusing on getting his breathing back under control.

"Sam is worried about you. And I am too,"

"I'm fine. Just a nightmare, that's all it was,"

Cas looks skeptical at that but says nothing. He reaches over and brushes a finger across Dean's lips, healing the wound there. Dean stares at Cas, wondering why the angel bothers fixing someone who's so broken.

"I'm sorry," Cas mumbles.

"For what?"

"Letting you go to Hell again. I should have saved you when I had the chance,"

"It was my fault, Cas. I was the one that picked up the first blade and didn't want to let it go,"

Cas shakes his head. "I keep telling you Dean. That wasn't you,"

Dean knows arguing with him would get him nowhere. Eventually he just sighs.

"Sure, whatever Cas," he mutters tiredly.

He lets his eyes close, resting his head against the back of the seat. He doesn't mean to fall asleep, but a few minutes later, Cas is waking him up again when he starts groaning in pain. Dean hates how weak he's become. He's gone up against the devil, archangels, and all sorts of nasty; been to hell and back, twice, but he can't shake the nightmares that plague his sleep. He hates seeing Sam and Cas look so worried over him. He's supposed to be the one taking care of them, not the other way around.

He rubs at his eyes again and decides that maybe he should just not sleep for a while. Which is easier said than done. Eventually, Cas makes a proposal.

"Would you like me to stay with you?"

"What? What are you talking about Cas?"

"You need rest Dean. And you can't get it if these nightmares continue. I can stay with you and watch over your dreams for you,"

Dean considers it. Thinks about saying no, that's weird Cas, don't spy on my head like that. But he's so tired and what Cas is suggesting actually sounds rather nice. A century or so in Hell without any kind of comforting, physical contact has his soul craving it, no matter who it's from. And he'd really rather it be Cas than Sam. Because that would just be even weirder and Sam would probably be all agreeable and have that puppy dog look on his face that Dean thinks is really annoying. So he nods and heads back to his room with Cas following.

He lays down on his bed, sighing at the comfort of memory foam. Even after a year, it remembers him and he smiles a bit at that. Got to enjoy the little things, he tells himself. Cas lays down next to him after remembering to at least take his coat and shoes off. He doesn't need to sleep anymore, but the habit is sort of ingrained in him from his time as a human.

Dean looks at him a little hesitantly. He hadn't thought that Cas meant he'd be in the bed with him. He thought that Cas would just stand there creepily like he usually does. But when Cas asks if something's wrong, he just shakes his head and lays back down.

He can feel the angel's gaze boring into the side of his head and he turns to tell him to quit staring already. He's not expecting the angel to be so close, or to notice how stupidly blue his eyes are, shining like there's galaxies swirling inside them and maybe there are. His feeble plea for personal space dies on his lips and instead he just looks away, face heating for an inexplicable reason.

"Dean, you should sleep," Cas advises.

"I'm trying," he grumbles. "But it's kinda hard when you're staring at me like that,"

"My apologies,"

When Dean glances over again, Cas is staring at the ceiling this time, hands folded together on his chest.

"Cas," he starts.

The angel turns his head minutely, giving him his full attention. "Yes, Dean?"

"Um, are we gonna talk about this?" he asks nervously. They haven't yet, even though Sam keeps pressuring him to.

"This?"

"Us," he says, gesturing vaguely at the space between them.

"I was under the impression you were not willing to,"

Dean turns on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "Yeah well, I'm not but it still has to be done. I need to know...where I stand with you,"

Cas turns to mirror Dean's pose. "I meant what I said back there. I love you, Dean," he says, blunt as ever.

"Yeah, I kinda got that Cas," he replies with a nervous laugh.

"You feel the same, yes? I thought that, when you kissed me back, you were returning my sentiment," Cas asks. He looks away and it's the first time Dean has ever seen Cas shy about anything. It's almost endearing in a way, how much his approval means to the angel.

"I don't know, Cas. It's...complicated. Things like love and happiness and stuff, I haven't felt those things in a long time. I guess it's going to take me some getting used to," he says without trying to come off as a 'woe is me' douchebag.

Cas only nods. "I understand," he says.

The angel turns away, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling again. He's unnaturally silent and if Dean didn't know better he'd think Cas fell asleep. But he does know better and he's known Cas long enough to know that he's trying not to show whatever emotions he's feeling. He sighs and snuggles in closer, wrapping an arm around him and resting his head over his chest.

"Sorry Cas. I love you too," he says, surprising Castiel and himself. He hadn't meant to say that, but there's no take backs and it's the truth, anyway. No use lying to Cas. He looks up at the angel, who looks down at him with a blinding smile. Dean hasn't seen that in a while.

"Sleep, Dean," Cas replies, cards his fingers through Dean's hair. The hunter hums in contentment and closes his eyes, finally letting sleep claim him while Cas' presence chases the nightmares away.