Oh you tell me to hold on

But innocence is gone

And what was right is wrong

-Imagine Dragons "Bleeding Out"

Sleeping never came to Dean easily. It was a trait from a lifetime ago, from when he had started hunting with his father. A part of him was restless during a hunt, and whether it was fear, nerves, or even excitement was a definition that escaped him. Then his life became the hunt. Slowly, slowly, it assimilated every leisure hour until he'd forgotten the last time he had slept more than a three hour night. He survived, thrived, on naps.

Castiel had always seemed to sleep soundly, or, at least, he was silent in his insomnia. Silent and unmoving. His every muscle had relaxed the second he had been horizontal. In the mornings, when Dean had grown bored of the flickering television or of waiting for streaks of light to grace the horizon, he'd glance at his partner who'd not moved an inch during the night. In contrast, Claire slept deeply, but fitfully. Her blankets always tangled and dragged on the floor. Pillows were thrown when she twisted to more comfortable positions.

The sudden absence of grumbles and soft creaks as Claire rested in the grungy motel bed made Dean raise his head from his laptop.

Claire's tangled hair hung in front of her eyes. Her gaze slowly focused before she drew her knees up and rested her head upon them.

"Hey," Dean whispered. Neon numbers flashed 3:45 from across the room.

"Hey," she parroted.

Dean shifted his attention back to his screen. Minutes slipped away, so many that he thought Claire had fallen asleep again.

"I had a dream." The statement cut through the silence, and, once again, Dean looked up.

"It was about Dad," she said, "and Uncle Castiel." Her voice broke on the last name. Dean kept his own voice even.

"Want to tell me about it?"

Claire brushed her bangs back. Her face was blotched red.

"Daddy was…Dad. He was normal. Like he always was." She paused before continuing. "Uncle Castiel was an angel. It was so weird, but it made sense, you know. He was odd, but good." Dean's lips quirked. That described his friend well.

"I-I keep forgetting, though," Claire croaked. "I keep forgetting Dad's face and Mom's and even now everything's so clear from the dream, but their faces. I could see their faces." She stopped for a breath. "Do you ever feel that way? Like you can't remember your dad's face or your brother's face and you feel like one day you'll forget them all together and it'll be like they never existed, but they did. You know they did and you can't…" She rambled, but her eyes were sharp, like Castiel's electric blues when he studied a piece of a puzzle, or a piece of a case. It hurt to see those eyes.

"Your dad and Cas were identical twins," he said slowly, avoiding her gaze. "They looked the same." At this, Claire's face scrunched.

"No. They didn't. They didn't look anything alike."

Denial? Or something else? But Claire seemed to have worn herself out with that last statement, flopping back on the bed. Before slipping again into silence and sleep, one more sentence escaped her.

"At least you could see your brother again if you wanted to."

I am alive. Slow as heck updates =/ dead fic

Things that have happened...hm...started university for one. Civil Engineering, if that gives you any idea as to why I definitely do not have more time to write.

Stopped SPN in the middle of season 8. Have been meaning to catch up. Maybe in the summer.