Author's notes: nightmares in this
Part 16 - housing monsters
The first week went by awkwardly. Dean told him he wanted space and Sam tried to give it to him. He let Dean take the bedroom and made a bed out of the couch downstairs. It wasn't all that comfy but he respected Dean's choices, and Dean as a person. Sure it hurt because he felt something for Dean and he rescued him from Nick and he pulled him out of his head, but it was Dean's choice. The ball was in his court, not Sam's. And Sam could wait. He would wait as long as he needed.
Then one night as he tried to fall asleep on the couch, he heard Dean screaming. It was earth-shatteringly loud and he was up and on his feet before he could think and he heard Rufus getting up from his room as well. They were both by Dean's door in a heartbeat, exchanging worried looks with each other.
Sam opened the door and found Dean tossing and turning, his hair drenched in sweat, his eyes squeezed shut. He was mumbling and moaning and Sam could see the panic in his movements. It was a bad dream, an awful nightmare. Sam knew from experience, had nightmares of his own when he had been alone for the first time since John died. Maybe they weren't from the same thing, couldn't quite be compared because one was from years of abuse and another was from months of loneliness, but Sam did have experience in nightmares. Knew that god awful feeling of helplessness when he was being chased by something that couldn't be killed because it wasn't real but it was real enough in that moment.
He walked over slowly, cautiously as Rufus stood frozen by the entrance of the room, almost scared that if he made one move out of place Dean would wake up screaming and thrashing. Or maybe he was scared Dean wouldn't wake up at all. Sam hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He could barely make out what Dean was saying.
"...master, please…"
There were tears spilling from his closed eyes and Sam desperately wanted to shake him awake. But he knew Dean had a gun under his pillow - they all did - and he didn't really want to be on the other end of it. He shifted a little on the bed, trying to find a better perch.
"I'm sorry," Dean was mumbling, turning again so that he was facing Sam.
It hurt to see Dean like this, so vulnerable and in pain, at his lowest moment. It felt like Sam shouldn't be here and suddenly he was having second thoughts, thinking about fleeing with his tail between his legs. But as he glanced back to the door, his only exit, he saw Rufus staring at him, mouthing, 'don't you dare think about leaving now, Winchester. Do something.'
And Sam took a deep breath, turned back to Dean, and thought to himself, 'Rufus is right. I can't quit now.' He knew if his father was still alive he'd tell Sam, Winchesters don't give up, son. And he'd be right. Sam wouldn't give up here, he wouldn't give up on Dean just because he was scared and this felt too real. He gave Dean space and now he was going to go against his wishes and save him again, because that was what Winchesters did. What Sam did.
"Hey, Dean," Sam whispered. He took another deep breath when Dean was still moving around, unable to hear him from the nightmare he was trapped in. "Dean, wake up, it's not real. Whatever you're dreaming, it's not real. It can't hurt you," Sam said in a louder, more confident voice.
Dean twisted under the covers in response. "Please," he mumbled. "Please, it hurts. I'm sorry." He started to whimper and Sam had enough. He couldn't listen anymore to Dean's pain.
Sam didn't care if Dean tried to shoot him but he had to wake him up now. He got up and walked closer to Dean, reached down to shake his shoulders gently. "Wake up, Dean. You're having a nightmare. Come on, man. It isn't real," he said, crouching next to him.
Dean moaned in response and Sam shook him harder. "Come on, Dean, don't you do this to me. Not now. I just pulled you out, remember? I went into your dream and pulled you out. I saved you. Don't make me walk in your dream again, because I will. I'll do it a thousand times over if I have to, man. You're not slipping away."
Dean shot up like a light, still groggy and dazed, hands fumbling around trying to find the gun he stashed under his pillow. Sam stopped him, pulling him into a tight hug. "It's ok, Dean. It's ok. It was just a nightmare. There's nothing here that can hurt you," Sam said, leaning his head on Dean's shoulder. He felt Dean stiffen in the embrace but Sam didn't care because Dean was up and alert and he wasn't stuck in a stupid dream.
He could feel the moment Dean relaxed, realizing it was just Sam and he was back in Rufus' place. Dean slowly wrapped his arms around Sam, awkwardly returning the hug. It was all Sam could hope for. He took in the smell of conditioner and alcohol and all of Dean.
"You're ok now, Dean," Sam repeated quietly.
Dean didn't say anything, just tightened his grip around Sam. Sam could hear him start to sob.