A/N: Hello, lovely readers! This is a one-shot that I've wanted to write for a while, so I'm glad I finally got the chance to do so. Warning (just in case): spoilers up to S9. This one-shot features Dean's singing, human Cas, and big brother Dean taking care of little brother Sam. Enjoy!
Hey Jude
"Seventy-five bottles of beer on the wall, seventy-five bottles of beer—"
Dean opened his eyes to the uninterrupted sound of singing. It was two in the morning. He knew that without picking up his head to check the clock on his bedside table, because he had just laid his head on the pillow, having stayed up late doing research with Sam on their latest case.
At this rate, he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, four hours or otherwise.
He never considered how easily noise carried across the bunker, until….
"Seventy-four bottles of beer on the wall, seventy-four bottles of beer—"
"Cas," Dean snapped. His voice was slightly muffled by the pillow, but he had no energy or desire to lift his head again. The singing stopped.
"Dean? Is that you?" Cas called out. His bedroom was right beside Dean's, which he now started to think was a bad call on his part. He rolled his green eyes under his heavy eyelids.
"No, it's your very own guardian angel. Halo and white dress sold separately," he deadpanned. On the other side of the wall, there was only silence. Dean could easily picture the confusion on Cas' face. "Yes, Cas, it's me. Why are you still awake? I thought you went to bed at ten."
"I did, but I couldn't fall asleep. I closed my eyes, but I couldn't turn off my brain. I would count sheep, except there are no sheep to count. Now I'm counting the invisible bottles of beer on the wall. I should have glued your empty bottles to the wall and counted those."
I don't drink that much, Dean thought, but the last thing he wanted to do was get into a stupid argument at two in the morning.
"Yeah, I get that," he grumbled into his pillow. His eyelids fluttered, aching for sleep, the eyes beneath them sore from poring over dusty books. Still, he knew that Cas was bound to start singing again. If he ever wanted sleep tonight, he'd have to make Cas fall asleep first. "Just close your eyes."
He couldn't tell if Cas was listening or not, but it was quiet beyond the wall.
"It's dark," Cas said, his voice rising anxiously. "Nothing's happening. And what happens when I do fall asleep? Does my body shut down? Like a machine? What if I need to urinate during the night? What if I have one of those nightmares and I can no longer tell the difference between reality and fantasy? What if I never wake up again? Though I suppose it is one of the most peaceful ways for humans to die. Dean, what if I forget to breathe when I sleep? What if—?"
"Hey, Jude, don't make it bad," Dean started to sing half-heartedly. "Take a sad song and make it better—"
"Dean? What are you doing?" Cas asked, sounding more puzzled than ever.
"Singing you to sleep. It works much better than sheep and beer bottles; trust me. Just close your eyes, relax, and listen." Everything in the bunker fell silent. Dean could only assume that Cas was listening, so he began to sing again. Just like his mom used to do for him and Sam over their crib.
Hey, Jude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better
Hey, Jude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better
"Cas?" Dean whispered. He strained his ears to listen to the sounds of the bunker. From the other side of the wall, he heard the gentle rhythm of snoring. "Hey, Jude" works every time, he thought, smiling victoriously as he buried his face into his pillow and closed his eyes.
"That was good, Dean," Sam's voice filtered through the wall on his other side. He must have been listening, too.
Dean opened his eyes and rolled over to stare at the wall that separated his room from Sam's. He pictured Sam on the other side, stretched out on his back, his freakishly long legs hanging over the end, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't understand how Sam could do that, after witnessing his girlfriend die the same way as their mom.
"I did the same thing for you, too," Dean reminded him. It was easy for him to recall the times when that song was the only thing that could make his little brother fall asleep at night, usually when their dad hadn't returned from one of his hunting trips.
"I remember. That's the song Mom sang to you." Dean wanted to point out that their mom also sang it to Sam, but of course Sam had no memory of her, having been only six months old when she died. Dean kept his ears trained on the soft snoring from beyond that other wall, just in case it stopped.
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't wake the baby," he pleaded. He barely heard Sam's chuckle through the wall. That was precisely what Cas was now, as a human: a baby in a trench coat. All of a sudden, it felt like he had another little brother to take care of. "Goodnight, Sammy."
"Goodnight, Dean." Once more, the bunker plunged into heavy silence and Dean let his eyelids flutter closed, welcoming sleep. And once more, the silence broke. "Dean? I can't fall asleep."
Dean sighed.
"Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah! Nah, nah, nah, nah…hey, Jude," he sang. Some things never changed.
…..
A/N: Obviously, I don't own the song "Hey, Jude." I don't know about you, but I can imagine Dean taking care of Sam with the same song his mom sang to him. I certainly enjoy writing these brother one-shots between these three. I would like to take this moment to thank those that have reviewed recently, because your kind words always keep me going:
Clover: Thank you so much for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed these one-shots and hopefully I'll continue to entertain you in the future. Just like you, I am a sucker for Cas, so there will be plenty more of him soon. Just wait until you see what I have planned for next time. (-;
Emma Winchester 424: Aww, thank you. I wanted the last one to be a little more heartfelt than humorous, just to shake it up a bit. I only wish somebody told John Winchester the same thing that Bobby told him in that last one-shot. I enjoy writing these moments of little brother Sam and big brother Dean, so hopefully there will be more to come. Maybe I'll even include Bobby again.