A/N: So sorry about the wait, everyone! Here's the next chapter.

If You Dare Challenge - #101 (My Worst Nightmare)

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #470 (Tongue Tied)

Fanfiction Writing Month [1504]

When he arrived in the boys' room, he found his boys all loosely crowded around Dean's lower bunk. He squeezed through them and found Sam on one side of the room, crying and hiccuping into Cas's shoulder while the older boy rubbed his back, carrying him as though he were much younger. "Et exspiravit," Sam wailed. He repeated it, over and over, in between sobs, until breaking out into sobs so great his whole body shook. Castiel seemed especially troubled by the scene.

Dean was in his bed on his back, whimpering and moaning softly. His skin shone with a thin film of sweat. "How long has he been like this?" Sonny asked, worried.

Ethan shook his head, gazing emptily at Dean. "That's not it, Sonny. Just wait."

All of a sudden Dean's back arched, his breathing caught, and his mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. No sound came from him, but his eyes squeezed shut tightly, and his entire body jolted: once, twice, a dozen times, until he collapsed back into the mattress, making pain-filled sounds. "Have you tried waking him up?" Sonny asked.

Ethan nodded. "That's what Cas tried to do first."

At the sound of his name, Cas tore his eyes away from Sam and met Sonny's gaze. A dark red slash now decorated Castiel's face. "Oh, God…" Sonny murmured. "Okay, everyone head downstairs, okay?" He didn't want Dean to wake up surrounded by the other boys. He knew how the Winchesters feared crowds. "You can sleep on the couch if you'd like. If you can't go back to sleep… You can put the TV on, but mute it, got it?"

As the boys filed out the door, giving concerned or scared glances to Dean, Castiel stopped in front of him. "But Sonny—" he began. Sam gripped him tighter, so he whispered so as to not startle him. "What about Sam?"

Sonny ran his hand through his hair. "Just… sit on the bed with him, okay? Over by the door." Castiel nodded. "And kid...you okay? That cut—"

He shook his head. "Get Dean awake first."

Sonny kneeled beside Dean's lower bunk. He had started to cry, taking low, shallow breaths before making the same motions as before and choking on unspeakable pain, jerking with the force of each invisible blow. Sonny tried touching his shoulder, but once he did so, he had to duck to avoid receiving a cut similar to Castiel's.

He didn't want to do this (he never liked using physical force with Dean), but he had to pry the knife from Dean's hands. Dean fought Sonny with surprising strength, but soon the weapon was in his hands instead. He placed the knife on a nightstand and then kneeled again next to Dean. Dean only moaned louder now, tortured by whatever was inside of his head, and gripped the sheets, whining from the pain. His face glistened with sweat and tears, and his entire body shuddered, curling tighter. Yet his body stayed in relatively the same position as if held by invisible restraints. His arms were bent above his head, and—

Dean's body arched again, jolting once more with the strange blows, and then Sonny couldn't stand it. "Dean," he whispered, and Dean groaned in pain, twisting and contorting and writhing. He tried again, louder. "Dean." His head jerked to the right, and he let out three animalistic whines, flinching and jolting with blow after blow after blow— "Dean!"

Dean's eyes flew open, swollen and bloodshot. His pupils were blown with terror. He screamed and shrunk in on himself, squeezing as far back into the corner as he could go. The bed squeaked beneath his terrified, shaking body. He's awake, Sonny thought, but in his mind he's still there. "N-n-no—" he sobbed, shielding his head with his arms. "P-p-p—"

It took Sonny nearly two hours to calm Dean after his nightmare. He had to send both Sam and Castiel from the room as well. Now, Dean sat with his back against the wall, not letting his spine even brush against it. He hugged his knees against his chest, his eyes puffy and red. His face was covered in tears; he roughly brushed them away with his sleeve. "Dean?"

The Winchester looked up at Sonny, but not freely. His eyes held a strange, obedient quality that frightened him. "Yes, sir?"

Sonny swallowed hard. "You don't… have to call me sir, Dean. You know that."

"Sorry, sir."

"Don't be sorry, it's—"

The door creaked, opening slowly. Kathy Gavinski had arrived with a mug of hot chocolate. Dean bristled at the newcomer. For a second, Sonny thought he had gone back inside of his head. "Hey," she said softly. "Dean, it's me."

Slowly, Dean lifted his head.

"I brought you some hot chocolate," she said, kneeling beside Sonny. "You want it?"

She offered it to him, handle first. Dean looked down and nodded, accepting the mug. It was not too hot for him to hold; Kathy had made sure of that. He sipped on it cautiously, and then Sonny spoke again. "Do you remember what happened, Dean?"

He stayed silent, tongue tied.

"You had a...bad dream."

Again, nothing.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Dean's hands shook, and some hot chocolate splashed onto the comforter. "S-sorry, sir, I'll clean it up, I'll—"

"Don't worry about it, Dean," Sonny assured him. "I'll get it later, okay?"

He nodded in reply, still wary.

"Do you want to talk about your dream, Dean?"

He shook his head. "It was nothing, sir, I promise."

"Dean…" Sonny and Kathy shared a concerned look. "I care about you. I just want to help." He began to protest again, but Sonny stopped him. "Please. Tell me what happened."

Dean stared at Sonny, his gaze oddly intense. "Yes, sir," he said finally, and he took one shaky sip of the hot chocolate before speaking again. "Before we came here… Four years ago, we were staying in Iowa. Sir was… He left to work, but he was…angry with me, so he didn't let me stay with Sam." It was clear that Dean was censoring his words in front of them. "I just… I just wanted to get back to him. But Sir…" His fingers gripped the mug with frightening strength. "We were...hunting, and somethi—someone had followed us. I don't know—somehow I got separated from Sir, and this… I got knocked out. I woke up and I—" His breathing quickened. "Sir was gone. I di-didn't know where I—where I was, and th-th-there was…" He squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block out the thought. "Sir, I can't… I don't want…" He started to shake again, whimpering. Suddenly, his eyes went blank as though someone had wiped the emotion from him. He told the rest of his story in a dull monotone, like it had no effect on him. "The…man who took me… He liked hurting people. Kids. The others, they didn't survive past a week. But me… I was in there a week before Sir found me." Dean's face didn't move, but his eyes bounced back and forth several times before settling back into their former position. "The man… He kept me down there… Kept me chained to the wall. Whipped me until I was standing in blood… Cut my legs whenever I passed out… He would sit and watch me bleed, watch me call for help, and laugh. He liked hearing me scream…" He flinched once before going back to his robotic state. "That's what I was dreaming about, sir. After, Sir took me to the hospital; I don't remember much, only flashes, but I was in pretty bad shape. Then we went back on the road."

As Sonny struggled to control his anger, Kathy said, "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean didn't move.

"That should never happen to anyone, you hear me? What you went through… I couldn't begin to understand, but I want you to know that we're here for you, okay? Sonny and I" —she placed her hand over his— "are always here if you need someone to talk to."

Dean's almost robotic persona cracked as he handed the mug back to her. "D-don't—" He hesitated. "Don't tell anyone, okay? They don't—don't need to know."

"Even Castiel?"

"Especially Cas." Dean shook. "They'll hate me, I know they'll hate me."

Kathy frowned. "Dean, why would they hate you? Castiel… He cares about you. He would understand."

Dean shook his head furiously. "N-no! He—he can't know how… how weak I am. He c-can't. Please."

This time, Sonny interrupted. "Dean," he said, "you aren't weak. You're strong. Incredibly strong."

Dean started to cry, and immediately wrung his hands as he did so. "N-no. No. No, no, no…" He seemed to be muttering to himself now. "Soldiers don't cry. Soldiers don't cry. Soldiers don't cry."

Sonny shared a scared glance with Kathy. "Dean, it's okay to cry. Sometimes, when you're feeling—"

"No! I-I-I—" And then before Dean could shed one more tear, he shut down again, going completely blank.

A/N: I'll be posting the next chapter in the next couple of days. Tell me what you think so far!