Febuwhump Day Four: Nightmares. Dean can't fight off the nightmares by himself anymore and asks Cas to stay with him until he falls asleep.

Title: A Demon in My Sleep

"No!" Dean screamed, "Sammy! Cas! Jack!" their bodies lay lifeless on the sandy earth. He never should have let Sam or Cas come back to the Apocalypse world. He should have protected Jack from the tragedy of this place. He crawled to Sam's side, sloshing through the puddle of blood pooling from his body. His arm had been ripped off and the stump flowed freely His little brother was mutilated. His last moments had been agony. "Sammy," Dean gripped the front of his shirt and tears poured down his cheeks, "I-I'm sorry. Come back. Please come back," he pleaded, knowing it was useless. Sam wasn't here. Everyone he loved was gone now. He bent down and pressed his head against Sam's and wept.

Dean's head thudded on the table, jolting him awake. He straightened and rubbed his temple, adjusting to his surroundings. He was still in the bunker kitchen. Still home. His family was still alive. He pressed his forehead to the tabletop and groaned. He should have known that last beer would lull him to sleep.

The nightmares had always been there, ever since Dean was a kid. They were disconcerting, but tolerable. Lately though, they had become insufferable. He couldn't tell the difference between dreams and real life, and he couldn't stand to see the people he loved murdered anymore. More than once, he woke up nauseous from the images of his family torn open, organs ripped out and eyes bulging out of their sockets. The memories even haunted him through the day so that when he would see one of them, he would nearly wrench them into his arms from relief.

Dean stood and stumbled over to the coffee machine. Some cold, stale coffee was left over from early evening. He held the pot to his lips and guzzled the dregs. He tossed the pot carelessly back onto the maker, then leaned back on the counter and covered his face in his hands.

"Dean."

Dean jumped up and instinctively balled his hands into fists. Cas stood in the doorway, head tilted and forehead wrinkled. "Hey," Dean greeted.

"When was the last time you slept?"

It had been weeks since he'd slept more than a couple hours at once. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"You need to rest. You're going to drive yourself into the ground."

"I can't," Dean admitted. He would've usually blown it off and said he was fine, but the exhaustion let it slip.

"Why?" Cas moved towards him.

"These stupid dreams."
"What dreams?" Cas's face only grew more concerned - the same face Dean had seen slack-jawed and empty eyed, dead on the ground only minutes ago. Dean looked away.

"Nothing really. Nightmares."

"What happens in them?"

"You die. Sam dies. Jack dies. And I couldn't save you," a lump grew in Dean's throat.

"I'm right here," Cas reached a hand out and rested it on Dean's shoulder.

"Yeah, right now. But you were dead. I watched you die. The only way it's possible to live this life is if you don't think too hard about it, but you know what's worse than dying? Watching you guys get killed and not being able to save you, and I see that every time I fall asleep. I'm gonna lose my mind like that."

"Dean," Cas said in his heavy, gravelly tone, "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you again. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"But you're going to kill yourself if you don't rest. So, please, will you sleep, at least for a little while? For me?"

Hope sparked in his eyes, expecting that "for me" was a good enough reason for Dean to put himself through the torture, and Dean couldn't turn him down. "Fine."

"Thank you," Cas smiled. He turned to leave and Dean listened to his footsteps clicking on the tile floor.

"Wait!" Dean didn't mean to say it. He hadn't even registered he was going to until it was out of his mouth.

Cas swiveled. "Yes?"

"I-" Dean stuttered. He knew what he wanted. Laying down, drowning in the nightmares, he would just wind up in the same place he always did. He couldn't keep doing the same thing over and over. Something had to be different. "Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?" it was vulnerable, more vulnerable than Dean usually dared to be, and in the seconds it took for Cas to comprehend the question, he became positive he would be rejected.

"Of course," Cas said simply.

Dean's lips twitched up. "Thanks."

He turned off the kitchen light as he exited and followed behind Cas to his room. Cas laid down on the far side of the bed like he was in a coffin, on his back, legs straight out, and arms to his side. Dean settled beside him. "Is that how you slept when you were human?"

"No. I found it most comfortable to lay on my side."

"Me too," Dean said. He crawled under the covers and flipped on his side, facing Cas.

"Figuring out how to sleep didn't come naturally," he recalled.

"It can be hard sometimes," Dean agreed. Right now, even fatigued and head aching, he was finding it difficult to sleep knowing Cas was beside him. He shut his eyes and released a deep breath to try and loosen the knot in his chest.

He could feel Cas there, his presence and his warmth. It was safe. That was his anchor, the reminder that the dreams weren't real. Maybe Cas would be his dream catcher and protect him from the violent visions. Dean couldn't stop himself. He wriggled closer to Cas. Cas watched him and Dean was grateful to see that he didn't seem disturbed or surprised by the movement. He tested the waters and rested a hand on Cas's chest, feeling the way it rose and fell, his lung expanding with oxygen and then deflating. Dean didn't know if angels needed to breathe, but he was glad Cas did.

"You're warm," Dean thought aloud. He could feel Cas's heartbeat beneath his hand. The steady rhythm was easing him to sleep, slowly evaporating his anxiety. He was just tired enough to ignore the fear of rejection and place his ear over Cas's heart. There was no way to deny that Cas was alive now and there was nothing that could pull Dean away.

Cas placed an arm around Dean's back, protecting him. He felt shielded from the world like this. He hadn't been touched like this, tenderly, lovingly, in so long. Lisa used to hold him, but there was always a hole in his chest back then. But here, now, he wouldn't have changed anything. He curled his body closer to Cas and fell asleep to the soothing cadence.