Dean grunted as he took in the motel room. It was one of those places where you slept on top of the covers and just closed your eyes and made sure not to think about when the place had last been cleaned, if ever. Castiel followed silently behind him.
They had been on the road for 17 hours, following a three-hour long hunt in the woods and a five-hour drive before that. It was well past 24 hours since Dean had last slept, and even though he had hoped to make it all the way back to the bunker on a mixture of stubbornness and coffee with an insane amount of sugar, he had finally caved and pulled over at a motel when they still had six hours to go. Castiel had suggested calling it a night earlier, but the hunter was stubborn as a mule.
Dean dropped his bag unceremoniously on the floor and sat down on the single bed. He groaned in comfort, not because the bed was particularly good, but anything was better than a car seat after 17 hours. Even when sitting in the amazing seats of his Baby.
Tooth brushing be damned. He was not getting back up again.
Castiel located a small table and sat down on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs. He had learned by now not to sit facing Dean while the hunter was sleeping. It was 'creepy', in the words of the hunter. So, he sat facing the window, his side turned to Dean. Indirect eye contact, check.
"Just three hours and we'll be back on the road." Dean was setting the alarm clock.
Castiel looked over the human. His shoulders were hunched, bags under his eyes and the eyes themselves bloodshot. "Maybe you should rest for a little longer than that."
"Nah, we have to get back. Sam already has a new case waiting. Can't risk him taking off on his own." Dean put the alarm clock on the nightstand and rubbed his face.
"Dean. You need rest."
"And I'm getting three hours." Dean slumped down on the bed. "So the sooner you shut it, the more rest I'll get."
Castiel was about to protest, but the clock on the wall suddenly filled the room with the sound of time passing, and he really wanted Dean to have as much rest as possible. So, he shut his mouth and stared out the window. The small, broken motel was surrounded by spruces on the sides not facing the road. It was nice. Soon, the clock was drowned out by Dean's snoring.
Castiel didn't know how long he had been sitting and studying how the wind played in the treetops when he heard Dean turning on the bed and moaning. It was not unusual during REM sleep, so Castiel ignored it at first. But the movements became harsher and the moaning more distressed.
At one point, Dean made a choked sound that made Castiel stand from his chair to check on the hunter. Dean looked distressed in his sleep. Nowhere near the peaceful rest he had been craving.
Castiel pondered what to do. What was the right protocol? Last time he had watched Dean have a nightmare, Castiel had sat silently on his bed until the man woke with a jolt, and then sent the hunter back in time. Dean had not been particularly happy with that wakening.
Dean turned once more, facing the Angel. Even in sleep, especially deep in a nightmare, he still looked exhausted. He didn't need to be wakened. He needed to sleep.
Castiel had never tried this before on an already sleeping being, but he put his index and middle finger to Dean's forehead, willing him to sleep and for it to be peaceful.
Dean immediately stopped tossing and his face relaxed. His breathing became deep instead of erratic.
Castiel smiled to himself, happy with the result. He turned to go back to his seat, only to be caught by the sight of the alarm clock next to the bed. Just under two hours had already passed. Too soon, they would be back on the road.
Castiel cast one more look at Dean, bags still evident under his eyes, even in deep sleep. Castiel made a quick decision, and similarly to how he had pressed his fingers to Dean's brow, he now pressed them to the alarm. The red numbers flickered and then went out.
The Angel returned to his uncomfortable seat with the picturesque view.
More than five hours later, Dean jolted awake. He looked around confused, almost falling out of the bed in his attempt to orientate himself. He looked at the alarm clock, hitting it when it didn't relay any information. He finally singled in on the Angel. "Cas?"
"Yes, Dean?" Castiel studied the hunter. Even in his confused state, he looked much more rested than earlier. It was almost ironic how proper sleep messed with the hunter's head.
"What time is it?" Dean answered his own question by looking down at his wristwatch. He flew off the bed. "Damnit! Why didn't that damn alarm wake me up? Piece of crap." He hit the alarm clock again, more forcefully, and turned to the Angel. "Why didn't you wake me?"
Castiel tried to feign innocence. "You set the alarm."
"I also said 'we leave in three hours'."
"I… I didn't keep an eye on the time… You set the alarm."
Dean looked sceptically at the Angel, and Castiel did everything not to squirm under the scrutinising eye. Finally, Dean shook his head. "Whatever, man. I'll just brush my teeth and then we're the hell outta here."
Castiel couldn't help the smug smile that spread on his face when Dean closed the door to the bathroom.