Chapter Five

Heyyyyyyyyyy! Really short chapter today, but I didn't know where else to cut it...in return, the next one's gonna be pretty long tho I think xD

Dunno how much it is and if I should warn again bc we already have the tags but still, warning for PTSD, panic attack and a bit of flashback, just to be sure.

Sooo, who wants their daily dose of pain and fluff?

Would be thrilled to hear what you think about the direction we're taking!

Also yeah alternating pov, sorry for that xD

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

It had been two weeks since Cas woke up.

Two weeks of hour-long conversations. Two weeks of not enough sleep. Two weeks of sitting in a chair and sleeping on a mattress on the floor and getting up only for food and showers. Two weeks of hoping and worrying and longing.

Dean hadn't moved out of Cas' room. Cas hadn't asked him to stay after that first night, but Dean had decided to simply get ready for bed and settle on the mattress on the floor the next day and every day since, earning him a grateful smile. Dean knew how it was, hoping that others understood without making him ask. So that was what he tried to do for Cas as best as he could, read the angel's needs in his eyes before he even knew he had them.

Sam didn't question any of it, to Dean's great relief. He seemed just too happy to let Dean take over the nurse job, and two days ago he'd announced he'd be gone on a hunt by the end of the week that he'd asked Jody and Donna to join (he hadn't told them why exactly Dean and Cas weren't available, but their instincts had taught them better not to ask and just readily agreed to jump in).

They hadn't touched apart from the regular checks and changes of the bandages.

They just sat. Read. Talked. Slept. Talked some more.

At the usual dinner time, Dean lay his book aside (yes, against common assumptions he did quite enjoy reading if it was the right material, thank you very much), his stomach grumbling at the smell that wafted over from the kitchen where they'd heard Sammy cackle with pans for the last half hour.

"You hungry?"

Cas looked up from his own page just to let his eyes rest on his belly, brows drawn together in contemplation. Dean had to bite his lips to suppress the fond smile.

"A little."

He was still getting used to eating at all, and the strange mixture of taste and the molecular structure on his tongue that was created by his slowly recharging grace didn't leave him particularly eager to consummate food, but the empty feeling in his stomach demanded attention.

"I'm gonna get you something. Or well. Us", Dean said with a smile, and Cas could do nothing but watch how he got up from this damn chair he'd been sitting on for far too many hours, without a complaint, without a sign he minded, without a sign he wouldn't keep doing so for as many more horse as it took, as many as he was allowed.

You shouldn't have to, Cas wanted to say, not just talking about the food. I don't want you to feel compelled to do any of this.

"You're going to come back", he found himself saying instead, the sentence hanging between question and statement.

"Soon as I got us some food, Cas."

"Promise?"

Cas bit his lips immediately as the plea left his lips, for that's what it was, a plea, weak, selfish.

"Cas." Dean smiled at him, too fondly, too indulgently. "Unless you order me away, I'm gonna be right here. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

(And if he'd rather be curled up on the bed with Cas in his arms, well, that was something between himself and his deepest secret thoughts...)

~oOo~

The days got easier and the nights got harder.

Their continuous companionship during waking hours had settled into a more comfortable rhythm, but a few days ago Cas started having nightmares once the first phase of dreamless exhaustion was over.

Dean knew they would come sooner or later. He thought he'd been prepared.

He wasn't.

The first time he woke from Cas' breathless cry in the dark had sat deep in his bones for hours, and the feeling didn't waver now that he'd heard it multiple times.

So no, tonight wasn't the first time Dean scrambled up from his mattress in the middle of the night to rush over to the bed, waking Cas with his voice once he heard the angel whimper and toss violently in his sleep.

Tonight, though, was the first time he didn't simply force himself to retreat again afterwards.

"Wait!" A clammy hand suddenly snatched Dean's wrist as he tried to back away like he'd done all the previous times after making sure Cas was awake and coming back to himself. The angel's finger gripped him tight for a few seconds before letting go so fast you could have thought he'd been burned.

A hand closing around his own wrists, holding him down, a grip like steel no matter how much he struggled...

Dean stared down at his wrist that was still white with the print of Cas' fingers, then up into blue eyes, blown wide with shock and fear.

"Cas?"

"I-..." Cas opened his mouth, followed Dean's eyes to his wrist, as if he didn't understand what had just happened. "S-Sorry, I- I don't know-"

Clothes being torn away, torn apart, laying him bare...

He clutched his own hand against his chest, absentmindedly moving the fingers that had been clamped around Dean a moment ago. His breathing was fast and ragged, and Dean feared he might start to hyperventilate. He instinctively reached out to soothingly stroke Cas' side, but caught himself just in time. He didn't think Cas had even noticed.

Words breathed into his ear, hot against his neck, bitten into his skin...

"Hey, it's alright." He caught Cas' frantic gaze, held it to anchor him. "Breathe for me, buddy."

Cas nodded, attempting to take a shaky breath the same time Dean did, finally closing his eyes and taking a few deeper breaths as it slowly began to even out. When his eyes opened again, they were calmer, but Dean didn't like the dulling veil of shame that clouded them at all.

It had been so real. All of the dreams seemed so real. And yet the scariest thing had been that he found himself reaching for Dean afterwards, touching him, his body moving before his mind had caught up.

"I'm sorry", Cas repeated once he had his breathing under control, tears stinging in his eyes. "I-...I don't know- Dean, I-"

The desperation speaking from Cas' eyes as well as his voice were like a fist closing around Dean's heart.

"I think I want someone- you- here. Closer. Just to-" -to feel something else. Something that isn't pain and hate and disgust.

Cas squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain. He could still feel it now, the sensation of fingers digging bruises into his skin echoing in his body.

"But I can't, I- I can't-"

"Shhhh." Dean swallowed to make his voice work. "I get it. It's okay, Cas. You're alright." He buried his nails in the edge of the mattress to keep himself from reaching out again. "What about I stay on here, huh? No touching."

And despite the shudder running through him at the thought of physical closeness, Cas found himself drawn to accepting the offer. The only thing scaring him more than the risk of touch being to be left alone with his thoughts. No touching, Dean had said. No touching.

He pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Okay. Scoot over." Cas followed his direction, making enough space for Dean to join him in the bed and still leaving a gap between them. "Lie down for me, come on. Try to get back to sleep, yeah?"

It was the only thing Dean could think of, unsure how else to help Cas, how else to chase the memories away but in unconsciousness, even if it bore the risk of new nightmares. But he wasn't surprised when Cas shook his head.

"I don't think I can", he whispered, the held-back tears still choking him. "Every time I close my eyes-"

Cas trailed off, unable to voice the things swirling around in his head.

I can't sleep because I'm afraid to dream of him. I can't sleep because I'm afraid to dream of you. I'm afraid to dream of you and like it, and then wake up to find myself unable to have it. I'm afraid to dream of you and not like it, because you're everywhere, you're all I have, and I can't lose it. I can't sleep because I'm afraid to find out that he took you away from me.

Dean could just sit and stare at the angel, his tired features, desperate eyes, trembling body. He wanted to tell him how sorry he was, and he was, he was so sorry it was a physical pain in his chest, but he knew that was not what Cas needed right now. He needed Dean to pull himself together for fuck's sake, he needed Dean to be calm, steady, sure.

"Cas?"

"Mhm?"

Dean breathed in. At least Cas was still responsive. Good sign.

"I'd like to try something." Honestly, he wasn't sure about this idea at all, terribly afraid that it would backfire and make things worse (no touching, he had promised), but it was the only thing that came to him that might work if he just managed to do it right.

"I'm gonna touch you", he said as softly as possible, seeing Cas' eyes instantly go wide. "But just a finger", he added quickly.

"Just..." He held his little finger up in demonstration. "Do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know."

Dean nodded understandingly.

"It's okay if you don't. We can let go again immediately if that's what you want, yeah?"

Cas looked at him for a long moment, a sea of uncertainty in his blue eyes, but then he nodded hesitantly.

"O-Okay."

Dean gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Hold out your pinky to me." Cas swallowed hard, but did as he was asked, eyes fixed on his own finger as it neared Dean's. He carefully wound his own finger around the angel's, kept it just a featherlight touch, heard how Cas sucked in a sharp breath, but didn't draw away.

"How's that?", Dean whispered, somehow afraid to shatter the fragility of the moment with louder words.

"I-...it's..." Cas stared down at the point of contact in concentration and Dean held his breath.

"...it's fine", he finally said, a little shy, disbelieving smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that made warmth bloom in Dean's chest.

"I like it." He did. He actually did. It was...it was fine. It was good. It was grounding.

"Good." Dean didn't care to hold back the relieved smile that spread over his own face. "How about...how about we stay like that while you try to fall asleep, hm? And every time..something comes back..you can feel my finger and you'll know you're here. With me." He bit his lip, lowering his eyes to their hands. "How does that sound?"

"I'd...I think I'd like to try that."

"Awesome." Dean tried not to sound too delighted. He really did. "Come on then, lie back down."

He watched how Cas wiggled back beneath the white covers, the fabric of the fluffy black dressing gown he was wearing scrunching up a bit. Dean just realised now that he himself was still dressed in the tee and flannel he'd been wearing the day before. He must have fallen asleep over his book before Cas' nightmare had woken him again. Well. No sense in changing it now, he supposed. He leaned down and snatched the pillow and black checked wool blanket from his mattress on the floor, positioning himself in the other corner of the bed, as far away as possible, yet still close enough to link their pinkies together.

The room was silent for a while after both had settled down and Dean had switched the lights off, just listening to Cas' quiet breathing, hyperaware of the patch of skin where they were connected, the warmth radiating off of Cas' skin, little squeezes from time to time when he shifted.

"Thank you, Dean."

A whisper, barely disturbing the silence.

Dean momentarily tightened the grip of his finger, showing the intention behind it.

"Nothing to thank me for", he mumbled back. (He'd almost slipped a sweetheart there, but caught himself the last second.)

Jesus Christ, Dean. Get a grip on yourself!

Cas just hummed in response, but it sounded sleepy, causing a smile to tug at the corner of Dean's mouth despite the worry that was still tightening his chest. He fell asleep with that smile on his lips, Cas' finger safely secured in his.

Dean didn't sleep on the floor anymore after that night.

By the end of the week, they had their whole hands entwined.