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Dean can’t remember his room ever being this Dark.
It’s not normal-dark like when his Mama flicks the switch after telling him his bedtime story or singing him a song, it’s the in-between of waiting for his eyes to magically make it lighter; when they’re almost there but can’t seem to reach that extra bit of brightness.
The light switch is all the way over There, and too high for him to reach without a stool. The light bulb in his night light (which is a Secret that Sammy is never allowed to know about because he’d probably laugh at Dean with his baby-laugh) had gone to sleep last night and Daddy had been too tired to go find another to fix it.
It’s very Dark.
He isn’t afraid, because only babies are afraid, and his blankets are still pulled up to his shoulders. He’s safe and Not Afraid, but that doesn’t mean the darkness is going away.
Something in the hall growls and scrapes it’s claws against the wall. It’s getting closer. Dean can feel the Dark coming in with it. The door of his bedroom creaks open, and he pulls the blankets up over his head like a shield, makes a zipping motion with his hands.
The force field is in place, he’s safe.
“Dean?”
It knows his name and stole Cas’ voice and it’s coming closer and closer and closer and it’s on his bed and tugging on his covers and he’s about to die and-
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
Cas. It’s Cas in the Dark, looking down at him. Dean fumbles up to feel his face to really make sure, because if there’s anything in the world that he knows it’s what Cas’ face feels like.
“Cas?”
“I’m sorry. I went to the bathroom but the power’s out and I fell down.”
“You- oh. No- I was already awake. It’s real dark.”
“It is.”
Dean’s a definitely not sleepy, but Cas looks sort of sleepy, so he lifts the blanket to let him in. That way Cas can be safe from the Dark without having to go all the way ‘cross the room to his bed. Dean will protect him.
*
The Monsters must have really attacked the magic electric boxes, because when Dean wanders downstairs in the morning with Cas still half-asleep, Mama is shoving all of the milk and vegetables into a big bucket of ice and none of the switches will turn on the lights.
He pulls up the hood of his pajamas. He’s a tiger, and even though the ears went soft when they were thrown around in the washing machine, and the stripes went a weird orange-brown color instead of black, he’s... still a tiger.
Tigers aren’t perfect in the wild, anyways. He saw a picture.
It’s not like he’d say anything, but his pajamas are much cooler than Cas’, which don’t even cover his feet and just have little rubber ducks on them even though he’s not in the bath.
He can’t even become a duck.
Dean has a tail.
The sun is up, which means the house isn’t the kind of dark that was the night’s Dark, but it’s still all weird and shady, and Cas asked for pancakes but Mama said that she can’t make pancakes without power, so they hold hands at the table and eat Froot Loops while Sammy makes burbly baby noises at them and squeals.
What he’s so excited about, Dean has no idea.
“How long’s it gonna be like this?” He asks – demands, tigers don’t ask – his mom.
She sighs and closes the fridge. “I’m not sure, sweetheart.”
It’s like it all day. His mama lets them keep their pajamas on and roam the house, and Dean takes it upon himself to build a fort out of the couch cushions and every blanket he can find. Last night wasn’t nearly safe enough.
Cas is no match for his superior skills, especially with his gained powers of Tiger Balance, and when they take a break for cheese and crackers he sits on the back of the couch without falling off.
Mom calls the fort a Death Trap and fusses about the dictionaries and stacks of books holding the blankets in place, but she helps Cas hang up pretty lights that look like fireflies and stack enough pillows that you’re comfortable no matter which way you lie down.
When the moon comes back so does the Dark, and Dean huddles with Cas under the roof of blankets and the glow of the firefly lights, making shapes on the makeshift ceiling with his hand-paws.
“We should get you duck pajamas.”
“I have duck pajamas-“
“No, like, duck- like mine. Or a bear or something, you don’t really look like a duck.”
“I want to be a guinea pig.”
“Why?”
“They’re very resilient.”
“They’re furry potatoes. You’re not a furry potato.”
“I could be.”
“But that’s not gonna keep you safe-“
“You’ll keep me safe.”
“Well, yeah.”
He adjusts his hood and growls, squirming on the ground and rolling over. It’s nice and warm in their fort, but one look outside and it’s nothing but black Dark. He absolutely doesn’t frown because he isn’t scared and Cas is right there.
Cas swats at his tail and falls down next to him, petting absently at the fur on Dean’s head.
“Your mom’s going to be mad if we don’t sleep.”
“I’m not sleepy. Are you sleepy?”
“Not really.”
“...I’m hungry.”
“All the food’s gone bad.”
There’s chocolate chip cookies in the cupboard. Dean remembers sneaking them into his mama’s grocery cart when they were shopping.
But getting them means going out There, and he’s not really sure if the cookies are worth possibly getting killed by the monsters that can steal voices.
And then he remembers that cookies are always worth it.
“..Dean?”
“There’s cookies, I want cookies, let’s go-“
He pushes himself up off the mountain of pillows but Cas grabs his wrist, eyes all big and worried. “But you won’t be able to see!”
“I’ll be fine!” He probably won’t, he’s probably gonna die.
“...Then I’ll go with you.”
The smile that Cas is giving him is enough to light their way, and their sweaty palms slide together and click into place so they can walk out of their safe haven as a team. The absence of light is harsh on Dean’s eyes, and he swallows at the consuming nothingness around them.
Their fort is a beacon in the night, but he steps away from it with his ears held high and his foamy claws sharp.
Cas is...channeling his inner guinea pig or something.
He thinks that the kitchen is this way, so he goes This Way and tries not to bump his knees against any rocks or monster claws that he can feel reaching out to get him. He doesn’t want to wake up Mama or Sammy, who are probably safe because Monsters can’t get grown-ups or babies.
The kitchen appears and everything looms above him, the Dark still all-encompassing, and Dean opens his mouth to say that they’re going to need to need a chair when the house growls, rumbling and shaking. Cas scrambles to hold onto Dean’s tail and everything explodes with light and Dean is absolutely sure that him and Cas are done for.
And then It’s there, the shadow of a wild beast flickering across the walls, spiky and vicious, with horns and huge claws-
Mama is there, tired and wild, scooping both of them up with her amazing grown-up strength, and Dean is not crying, the monster drooled on his face.
“What are you doing?” Mama sounds frightened, too.
“We wanted cookies.” Cas sounds...mostly okay. It’s because Dean’s here. Dean is here to protect him so he isn’t scared.
*
The lights are back. All of the food goes back in the fridge, and his mom explains that the shadow was probably just his pajamas.
Dean’s not convinced, really.
She makes them eat normal food for breakfast and forces them out of their pajamas so she can put them in the grumbly cleaning machines. It feels weird to not be a tiger, but him and Cas still hold hands at the table while they eat their pancakes, and Dean is definitely stealing those cookies once his mama isn’t looking.
“Mary?” Cas starts with complete seriousness, and even Sammy stops making a mess just to look at him.
“Yes, darling?”
“Where can I get guinea pig pajamas?”