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Piers wakes when he feels movement. He's always been a light sleeper, easily startled by even the softest shift; it's a leftover habit from his trauma. But this is different. Beside him, Dean thrashes about, whimpering and groaning.

Piers understands. He still has strange dreams too, horrible nightmares that leave him breathless and covered in a cold sweat. He doesn't know what demons haunt Dean now, but he knows his boyfriend is going through a lot. It breaks his heart more than he can ever say.

"Dean. Hey, Dean!" he calls loudly, hoping his voice can wake the other up because he knows better than to touch someone who's having a fit in their sleep. "Dean!"

Dean's eyes open, and he takes in a deep, shaky breath. "I… Fuck."

Piers almost laughs. It's a reasonable enough response to any traumatic dream, he thinks. Instead, he rests a cautious hand on his boyfriend's arm, careful not to apply too much pressure. "Are you okay?"

It's a stupid question, really, the same stupid question Max would ask him whenever Piers would wake up scraming in the middle of the night. The words fall from his lips reflexively, and he swallows down a groan, low-key hating himself for asking.

"No."

"Yeah, figured as much." Piers lets out a sigh and shakes his head. "I wish you'd tell me what happened when you disappeared."

It's been something Dean has danced around for ages now, some great mystery Piers worries he'll never know the answer to. Dean leaving had been painful enough, but there's something especially cruel about feeling like his boyfriend can't even trust him with the truth. Piers reminds himself not to take it personally. Dean is entitled to his own life, after all; if he wants Piers to know things, he'll tell him.

"I know." Dean laughs dryly. "I don't think you'd believe me if I tried." He sits up, rubbing his temples. "I can't sleep. Well, more like I don't even want to sleep."

Piers knows that feeling all too well. Sometimes his own nightmares would be far too much, and he would be too scared to even close his eyes again. Why does Dean have to be going through this too? Piers feels so useless. All he wants is to help Dean, but he can't even do that.

"Max used to sing me a lullaby on the really bad nights. Do you want me to try that?" Piers asks hopefully.

Dean snuggles in beside him, curling up and resting his head against Piers' stomach. "Please."

Piers doesn't have the best voice. He remembers always being jealous of Max for his beautiful tenor abilities. Still, he tries his best. It's rough and off-key, but Dean doesn't seem to mind.

"Sleep now, darling dear. There's no need to fear. I've got you, and you've got me. Isn't that how life should be?"

It's been years since he's heard the lyrics, but they flow so naturally from his mouth. He doesn't stop singing until he hears Dean's soft snores fill the air.

With a soft smile, Piers tucks the blanket around the other man before lying down himself. Maybe he'll never know the things Dean has seen, the things that still haunt him, but he promises himself that he will always be there to help Dean in any way he can. After all, that's what love is all about.