Title: Narcolepsy
Chapter:
2/?
Series: Supernatural
Author:
Alex Graves
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Ruby implied.
Rating:
PG13 for this chapter
Warnings: Spoilers for 4.16
, angst, violence, and slash.
Disclaimer:
I do not own Supernatural. It belongs to its creators and the network that runs it. No copywrite infringement intended.
A/N:
Man I love me some supernatural. Don't you? :)

Summary: The Winchesters visit a town that seems to suffer the nightmares of a narcoleptic. Can the boys save them or will it be the last straw for Dean?

Chapter Two
And there it goes, my last chance for peace.
You lay me down but I get no release.

The glass felt cool against his forehead, which Dean had to admit felt pretty nice. He still couldn't really breath properly through his nose but was thankful that the break had healed quiet nicely meaning his face wouldn't be disfigured. He'd still be the same handsome devil he'd always been and his lips quirked upwards quietly at the thought.

"Now there's something I was starting to think I'd never see again." Dean jumped, a bit startled as it had been completely silent for the last hour. He sighed and looked at his brother who was currently driving the Impala down a deserted stretch of road otherwise known as route 36. "Smile that is. You haven't smiled in a while." Sam answered when Dean raised his eyebrow in question.

Dean simply shrugged and returned his attention to the passing foliage, pressing his head against the cool glass in hopes of relieving the headache that had begun to throb at the front of his skull. He heard Sam give an audible sigh and knew that soon his brother would begin prying into him as he had done since Dean had woken up in the hospital three weeks ago. "No Sam. I don't want to talk about it."

"Well are you ever going to talk about it?" Sam asked, his brows furrowing in frustration. Dean sat up and looked over at his younger brother with a cheeky grin.

"Nope. Wasn't on my list of things to do," Dean replied.

"Dean. Something big happened back there. I know something big happened and I'm not talking about Castiel almost getting exorcised."

"Yeah something big happened. Tell me Sam, how did you kill Alistair exactly? Huh? Because last I checked Sam, we didn't have anything that could kill them. No colt, no knife, nothing." Dean watched Sam's brows furrowed even further as he clenched his jaw together, his lips thinning and his cheekbones becoming even more pronounced. "Yeah that's what I thought. Listen Sam, don't ask the big questions if you don't plan on answering some yourself."

They sat in silence again for a moment, Sam gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Dean was again resting his head against the passenger door's windshield, his eyes closed. The silence didn't last long, much to Dean displeasure. "You know why I don't answer you Dean? You don't want to know." Dean growled as he pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids, willing the headache to back off to no avail.

"You're right Sam. I don't want to know," he sneered. "I don't want to know what you're doing, how far you're going, what you're turning into. You know what you're turning into right? You know that if you go to far, I'm going to have to stop you?"

"You're not going to have to stop me Dean! Believe it or not, you don't have to save me! I'm not you're wimpy little brother anymore; I can take care of myself. I'm doing what I have to do to be stronger, so we can stop the seals breaking," Sam cried in semi-disbelief. "But you're not going to believe that, no matter how many times I tell you."

Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from replying. He didn't want to yell at Sam, didn't want to face the fact that he was losing his brother, losing control of the one thing in his life that should have been settled. He didn't want to add another weight, which is what he would be doing if he confronted Sam about everything. He'd already given up on saving the world and he knew if it came down to it, he'd give up on saving Sam. The world and Sam did not want to be saved, though the world perhaps didn't know it needed to be saved. Sam was just another problem entirely. And you can't save what doesn't want to be saved.

"Where are we going?" Dean asked instead, his head pressed to the glass yet again. Sam, who had been tensed as if ready to fight, slowly relaxed back into the seat, his fingers releasing its rigid hold on the steering wheel, flexing against the leather.

"Well you should get a laugh out of this," Sam stated, trying to force a small smile, trying to lighten a mood that he knew in the back of his head couldn't be lightened. "We're going to Hell." He paused and looked over at Dean to see his reaction. Dean, instead of clenching up into a ball like his body and mind screamed at him to do, merely turned his head towards his brother and raised an eyebrow. "Michigan. Hell, Michigan." Sam clarified.

Dean made a sound at the back of the throat and gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Michigan, huh? To some people it probably is Hell." Sam frowned, glancing at his brother. "So, what's happening in Hell?"

Sam nodded, reaching into the back seat and grabbing his backpack, pulling it up to the front seat for Dean to rifle through. Pulling out the top papers, Dean began to read the headlines. Sam watched as Dean's brows gathered, his lips pursed together as he flipped through the printouts. "Werewolves, vampires, ghosts, demons, what looks like the work of a Wendigo. Practically everything we've ever come up against, all in the same town? Place must be hell," Dean stated in disbelief as he rifled to backpack for more printouts. "But why? Why this town?"

"There's are two articles in there. The first incident back in November. The day before a girl almost dies falling off the high dive of a pool because of her Narcolepsy. Look at the pattern of the incidents." Dean quickly scanned the dates of each article before looking at his brother. "Right, there is no pattern."

"So you think that this girl and the attacks are connected?" Dean asked. Sam nodded, grinning in excitement. "The girl's fine! Says so right here! How could they be connected?"

"Every time an attack happens, I think she's asleep. I think everything that goes on there is simply a manifestation of her dreams. Like someone is giving her Dreamroot mixed with speed or something so it's, you know, backwards." Dean shook his head as he gathered the papers and placed them back in the bag.

"I don't know Sam. Sounds kind of insane." Sam shot Dean a look at which Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, we've dealt with stranger. But I don't know if your theory is right. Still, might as well check it out." Dean turned his attention back to the window and Sam frowned, looking at his brother.

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Sam asked. Dean sighed.

"Yeah Sammy, I'm sure." Sam nodded and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. Dean pressed his head against the window, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling of the glass against his forehead rather than the clenching in his chest.


Dean wasn't sure what to expect when Sam pulled into the lot of yet another ragged looking motel. He sure as hell wasn't expecting to see Castiel sitting on one of the beds in the room that they had been given. Opening the door and seeing the angel sitting there, trench coat, jacket, tie and all had been a bit of a shock and instead of simply quirking his lips into a smirk and spouting off a witty comment like he usually would have, Dean simply turned around and closed the door on the angel. Sam, who hadn't seen Castiel gave him a puzzled look, his lips opening to ask what was going on but Dean cut him off by pushing past him. "Need another room. Not that room."

"What, why?" Sam asked while Dean took off towards the lobby. "Wait Dean! What's wrong with the room?" He turned around, opening the door to see nothing but an empty room with usual amenities that came with a motel room. He turned around and looked for his brother, finding him standing halfway between the room and the lobby. He was tense, his shoulders pulled taut, his right hand gripping his duffel bag tightly as if his life depended on it. "Dean?" Sam moved towards Dean to find that Dean wasn't just standing there for no reason. Some one was in his way. "Castiel."

Dean turned to the side and leaned back against the wall, his lips pursed and his brows furrowed together. "Sam Winchester," Castiel said softly, nodding at the taller brother before training his eyes on Dean who would not look at the angel.

"Hey. Haven't seen you in a while. Not since…" Sam trailed off and shuffled his feet nervously. "Been keeping busy?" he asked politely. Sam had to admit, he didn't really have a problem with Castiel as Castiel had always made it perfectly clear that he didn't really care what Sam did as long as it didn't interfere with whatever mission given to him. Uriel had been the one that scared him, angered him and Sam wasn't sorry to say that he was glad the angel was dead.

Castiel looked back at Sam, his brows gathered in a frown as he cocked his head to the side in question. "Yes. I suppose so. I've been looking for you." Then it was Sam's turn to look confused. He frowned and looked at the angel before him who had resumed to staring at his brother. Dean was perfectly silent, his eyes closed and his lips slack.

"Look for us? But you're an angel. Can't you see us wherever we are?" Sam asked but it was obvious Castiel wasn't listening.

"We need to talk," the angel said so softly that Sam could barely hear him but Dean had heard. His eyes snapped open, bright and angry.

"No," he growled out before he stalked back to the room, pushing past Sam and slamming the door behind him in the wake. Sam turned to Castiel and sighed, shrugging at the angel who merely frowned and fallowed the other Winchester into the room, leaving Sam outside wondering what the hell was going on.

When Castiel entered the room, he found Dean pacing about the small space much like a tiger trapped in a too small cage would. He watched for a moment longer, wondering why his charge was acting to strange, so different. Castiel knew that Dean wasn't exactly fond of him, knew that Dean was pulled between feeling grateful and hating him. And if Castiel truly knew the full range of emotions that a human could experience at one single moment, he was sure he'd understand Dean better. But he could only understand certain things. Like the fact that Dean was tired, or that he hated being forced into a corner.

Castiel also knew all about Dean's time in hell. He knew about the thirty years Dean spent on the rack, being cut into, pulled apart and healed only to go through the same thing all over again. He also knew about the ten years Dean spent off the rack, putting other poor souls on it. Castiel had watched over his charge long before he had pulled him from perdition. He had watched Dean fall and hadn't been able to do a thing about it. And when he told Dean the truth, told Dean what he had so desperately wanted to save him from, he saw Dean fall all over again. And Castiel could do nothing and for perhaps the second time in his entire existence Castiel felt helpless.

Dean still paced the hotel room, not meeting Castiel's eyes as he passed by him on each go around. "Dean Winchester," Castiel began, his voice soft, comforting.

"I think we've known each other long enough to drop formalities Cas. You don't need to say my last name every time you say my name," Dean spat, cutting off the angel and looking at him for the first time. He stood still, staring at Castiel who simply stared back, hazel green eyes meeting blue, silence filling the room. They stayed that way for a while and to anyone who would have seen them, they would have thought that the two men were having a very intense stare off. Dean was the first one to look away and again he began pacing.

"Dean," Castiel said slowly as if tasting the name on his tongue, trying to decided if he liked it or not. "You are… tense."

"No shit," Dean huffed as he came to stand in front of Castiel yet again.

"Why?" Castiel asked, his brows furrowed and his head tilted to side in all too familiar look telling Dean that he was trying to understand. Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping forward as he sat down on the foot of the nearest bed, his fingers rubbing at his closed eyes, as if trying to starve off an oncoming headache.

"That's a pretty loaded question, Cas."

"You hid from me. I couldn't find you. Why?" he asked yet again, this time his voice holding a hint of seriousness and something else instead of the curiosity with which he had asked before. Dean looked up and again Castiel could see the bruised soul inside.

"I knew that if you found me, you'd try to make me fight," Dean confessed. Castiel noticed that yet again, the man would not meet his eyes. The angel pursed his lips and sat down never to Dean, his hands clasped in front of him. "I can't do it Cas, it's too much. It's too big. It's turning Sam into something dangerous. Something I'm not sure I can stop him from becoming. And it's all my fault." Dean bit his lip, his eyes beginning to sting as tears began to form and he turned his head away, taking a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check, cursing himself for getting emotional in the first place. After all, Dean Winchester did not cry. At least, not at the drop of a hat. Castiel sat silent next to him. "Sam wouldn't be doing this if I hadn't broken down. My dad was on the rack for a century and he didn't break. A century and I caved after thirty." Dean gave a hollow, angry chuckle and felt Castiel shift his weight next to him. Dean half expected to feel the angel's hand on his back but it never came. "If I hadn't come down off that rack, Sam wouldn't feel as though he needed powers in order to save the world. The world wouldn't need to be saved."

"If you hadn't come down off that rack, you'd still be there," Castiel stated and Dean barked another hollow laugh. Castiel shivered at the sound, wincing slightly. It sounded wrong coming from the man sitting next to him.

"Yeah. I'd be in hell. You'd be in heaven. Sam would be normal and the world would be safe." Dean paused and gave a small upward quirk of his lips despite how he was feeling. "Well, safer than it is now." Again there was silence, Castiel taking in every word Dean had said, processing it as Dean sighed, leaning forwards, his head bowed. "I'm sorry Cas but I can't. If I pull myself out I can pull Sam out with me. I can try to keep him safe. I can't do that if we're fighting."

"Sam Winchester will continue down his path whether you fight or not," Castiel said softly and Dean shook his head. "You must fight. It began with you and it must end with you."

"Why me?" Dean yelled standing up suddenly as he turned on Castiel who watched on calmly. "Why my family? What did we ever do to deserve any of this?"

"God works in mysterious-"

"Don't give me that bullshit Cas! Because that's what it is! It's bullshit! My family didn't deserve any of this. My parents were good people. Sam is a good guy and for some damn reason your God shits all over us! And we're just supposed to take it? It isn't fair!" Dean cried. He gasped, one sob that he had been desperately holding back escaping from his lips. He turned away and covered his face, trying to gain control of his breathing, trying to gain control of himself.

Castiel sighed and stood up, coming to stand in front of Dean who was shaking, trying so hard to reign in his emotions but Castiel could tell that he was losing the battle. "You're right. It isn't fair. Nothing is fair in this world Dean." Castiel said it softly, understanding, not matter-of-factly or meanly as any other person might have said it. "I know you don't want to but I have to ask it of you."

"Don't. Please don't. I can't do it. I'm not strong enough. I'm sorry but I'm just not strong enough," Dean whimpered shaking his head and finally the angel's hand came to rest on his shoulders.

"Dean. You have to continue. I will help you as much as I can but you must fight. It's not just humanity, your world, we are trying to save Dean, but heaven too." Dean looked at Castiel and slowly nodded. He knew well enough by now that if he didn't agree that the angel in front of him would force him too, no matter how many times he said he wished he didn't have to.

Castiel nodded and his hands slipped away. And Dean never felt more alone in his entire life.