Archive of Our Own ^beta

-

The next time I awoke, it was with a harsh kick to my ribs. I gasped, curling my arms around my middle before jolting up. My hand immediately went to my hunting knife, which I was surprised to find still strapped to my hip. 

I jabbed it forward, into the leg of the person that had kicked me. The blade sunk into the angel's calf easily, but he didn't even flinch.

 "Feisty one. I like that." He grinned. I didn't recognize him.

 I staggered to my feet as he bent down to pull it out. The entire room spun, and my sight threatened to go completely white. I clung to the wall like my life depended on it. 

I was suddenly slammed against the wall, an arm across my chest and my own knife pressed to my throat. It barely cut into the soft skin of my throat. Just enough to make me squirm uncomfortably. 

"Wait." I gasped. "I'll tell you where the Winchesters are. Let me speak to Bartholomew." 

He sneered at me. "You can tell it to me."

"No." I growled. "Let me speak to him." His face was unreadable, but he released my collar suddenly, and I stumbled forward just as he walked briskly out the door. 

I immediately skidded up to the door, fumbling the lock briefly in my hands before patting my sides down for my lock pick. I cursed under my breath when I realized the angels must have taken it off me, but left me with my knife. They knew I couldn't hurt them with it; they had left it just to taunt me. I sighed in frustration, wishing for once that I wore bobby pins, even though I was sure they would have been thorough enough to take those, too.

My eyes darted around the dark room, having adjusted already. There were far, dark corners that I still couldn't see into though, and they put me on edge. I stumbled towards a shelf covered in cobwebs, hoping I might find something, anything, that I could pick the lock with. I ran my hands across the dusty shelves hastily, and was rewarded for my efforts with a cut across my palm from a stray nail sticking up. I suddenly had an idea.

Gritting my teeth, I pressed my left palm down onto the nail again and sliced. It was much more painful than the clean cut of a knife blade, but it would do. I cupped my hand, allowing the blood to pool and collect in my palm. Dipping my fingers in the blood, I drew an angel banishing sigil underneath the shelf. I ripped the bottom of my shirt and wrapped it tightly around my hand.

Checking out the other side of the room, I found that except for the shelf and the dim lights overhead, the dusty room was utterly empty. In the dim lighting, I could see dark splotches and spatterings across the wall and floor. I could only guess it was blood, and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I didn't know what it was. I wasn't like I hadn't seen worse than this before. But I dropped to my knees anyway, heaving and gagging. My heart pounded in my ears. I was all alone this time; Well and truly on my own. 

Footsteps came down the hall much too soon for my liking. I was hunched over in the corner, breathing heavily, when the door whined open ominously. 

"What was it you had to say that was so important?" A woman's voice asked.

I twisted around to glare at her. "You're not Bartholomew." 

She laughed humorlessly. "Is it that obvious?" 

"Why are you here?" I staggered to my feet, narrowing my eyes at her. My head pounded. 

"You can tell me whatever you wanted to tell Bartholomew." She smiled politely, mockingly. 

"And you'll get the message to him? Word for word?" She nodded. 

"Tell him to take his little grievance with the Winchesters and shove it." I spat. "I'm not saying shit unless it's to him and him alone." 

I desperately wanted to get the angel within reach of the banishing sigil. I had no idea if or how it would work, now that heaven was closed off, but it was worth a try. 

The angel frowned, and my eyes darted nervously to her twitching fingertips. "Very well."

 She pulled the heavy door open, and I squinted at the bright light on the outside. I couldn't make out anything but her silhouette, which nodded towards me as she spoke. Another figure replaced hers in the doorway. As soon as the door was shut, I was slammed against the wall with a flick of the angel's wrist.

I writhed as he came closer to me and placed his glowing hand directly over my heart. A burning sensation suddenly erupted in my chest. I couldn't help the agonized cry that escaped my lips. My vision blackened, and I knew for a fact as my head fell against my chest that I was dying.

I felt like I was floating for a few seconds then what felt like only a few moments later, I gasped awake, swatting at the hand that rested on my forehead. I shot up, staring at the angel that had just killed me. 

"What the hell was that?" I hissed.

"I killed you." He shrugged. Without any further explanation, he turned his back to me and walked towards the door. 

He paused with his hand on the steel handle, flashing me a grin over his shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow." 

I stared straight ahead of me in shock, struggling to comprehend everything that had just happened. I wouldn't have believed him if it hadn't been for that unexplainable weightless feeling I'd experienced. He had killed me, and then brought me back almost instantly. But why?

-

He had promised that he would be back the next day, and so when the door opened, I could only assume a day had passed since I'd been here.

I had been leaning against the wall, drifting in and out of sleep. But as soon as I heard footsteps come to a stop outside the door, I scrambled to my feet. I held my hand directly above the banishing sigil, and as soon as the angel stepped in the doorway, I slammed the middle of it. He vanished in a blinding flash of light that made me see spots, but I was already making a run for it. 

I dashed down the hall, which seemed eerily empty.  Passing down a few doors, I began to slow down, suddenly uneasy. Something was wrong.

I looked around hastily for something sharp. I smashed one of the lights on the wall. Picking up the glass, I sliced my palm with it, and began to draw an angel banishing sigil on the wall.

I was halfway through the last symbol when I was flung against a wall with a sickening crack. I slid to the floor, gasping. A sharp pain stabbed into my lungs each time I sucked in a ragged breath. 

"Bartholomew." I grit my teeth, pushing myself to my elbows. He looked down at me, a frown on his face. 

"We could just go about this the civilized way." He huffed. "No need to be animals." 

"Fuck you." I hissed, doubling over in pain when my ribs shifted. 

"Ah, well." He bent down and seized me by my arm. "Looks like we'll just have to keep you down, then." He delivered a punch to my ribcage, and my chest exploded in white hot pain.

I cried out when he yanked me harshly behind him, dragging me back to that dungeon. I writhed, ignoring my body's screams of protest, even though I was sure one of my ribs had punctured my lung. He paid me no mind as he opened the door and shoved me inside. I tumbled to the floor with an agonized grunt, rolling onto my side and clutching my middle.

"I'll send someone in to deal with you later." His tone sent chills up my spine.

I just curled into a ball, panting. My breaths were wet and ragged, and I knew my lungs were filling with blood. I coughed, spitting blood out onto the floor next to me. My chest heaved like I had just run a marathon, but I still wasn't getting enough air. 

My eyes fluttered shut as dark spots danced across my vision. I hoped they would leave me dead this time. 

I was drifting for longer this time, but I was eventually brought back gasping and in a panic. I scrambled away from the angel in front of me, the one I had banished, and sucked in a deep breath. 

"What do you even want from me?" I asked.

"Nothing, now. Just you."

-

Every day, at least that's what I assumed, the torture continued. Every time I would drift, for a little longer each time, before being brought back kicking and screaming. I'd pass out almost as soon as the angel left the room, exhausted, even despite their grace. Repeatedly being killed and brought back was really taking a toll on me. One their grace couldn't fix; or that they didn't want to fix, that way they wouldn't have to worry about my escape attempts anymore.

I would jerk awake every time the door swung open, but eventually, I didn't even bother to move. I knew the routine. After what I counted as almost two weeks, I was so drained that I barely even woke when the door was opened. I didn't fight anymore when I was brought back to life, I only woke briefly, and then I was out like a light again. My waking moments consisted of nothing but torture.

They weren't grilling me for information anymore. They were killing me over and over again. I wondered what they wanted from me, other than the sick sort of pleasure I was sure they were getting from my torture. I remembered what Bartholomew had said, "If you won't tell me where to find them, then you can help me bring them here." They had destroyed my phone, and I was sure there was no other way the boys could track me. And this Castiel that I had never met, I knew he had no idea I even existed. What had Bartholomew meant by that? That I could help him bring the Winchesters and the angel here?

I was startled for the first time in two weeks by a commotion outside the door not long after my torturer left. It was one of those times where I would be left to die slowly. But this was something different. Something unfamiliar, and it scared me.

I curled tighter against the wall, my breath quickening slightly. Squeezing my eyes shut, I didn't bother to put pressure on the stab wound I had been given. I just rested my hands over it, feeling the blood well up through my fingers and running down my side. I sighed in exhaustion.

The door swung open, and my eyes fluttered open, but I was facing the wall. The footsteps that approached me were different; they were hasty and quick. I flinched when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was made to turn onto my back. My head pounded at the light coming into the room from the door open behind him, and I squeezed my eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath at the pounding in my head and turning my head away. 

"It's okay." The angel's voice said gently. "I'm not going to harm you." 

"No." I whimpered. I cracked my eyes open and studied his face. 

"Shh." He shushed me. He brought his fingers up to my forehead, and I flinched and suddenly struggled away. I didn't know what this new trick was. 

"I don't know what you even want from me." I pressed my back against the wall. 

"I don't want anything from you. I'm here to help you." He said sternly. "I can't believe they've done this to you." He muttered under his breath, and I wondered what he meant by that. 

I didn't have room this time to back away when he pressed his palm to my forehead. Despite being healed by angels multiple times now, the warm feeling was unfamiliar to me. I was always unconscious when that happened. 

It was the first good feeling I had felt in what felt like forever. I sighed, relaxing into his touch. He helped me stand and he gripped my arm firmly, not painfully, but I instinctively fought him until he pulled me to his chest. 

"Stop fighting me." His voice was threatening, and I immediately stilled. If I had been able to see his face, I would have seen the regret that was clear on his face at his abuse of the tone. I squeezed my eyes shut when the room began to spin and blur. If it hadn't been for his arm around me, there was no doubt I would have fallen. I felt sick as new surroundings blurred into focus. 

"Don't run." He said as he let me go. I backed away but obeyed. I knew how easily he could flick me into a wall, and so far, he hadn't hurt me yet. In fact, he has healed me. He was still an angel, but something in me told me I could trust him. I quickly shook that thought away. My eyes darted around, taking in the warmth of the lights. The angel stood in front of a long table, and looking behind me, I saw a metal staircase. I was afraid he was a member of another angel group against Bartholomew. 

"You'll be safe here." He reassured me. I eyed him warily.

"Cas!" I heard a familiar voice bark out. It took me a second to realize who it was.

"Dean?" I called out.

Dean froze in his tracks, shock evident on his face. "Oh my god." He muttered. He all but ran to me, scooping me in his arms and squeezing me tightly. Over his shoulder, I saw Sam staring in shock.

"We thought you were dead!" Dean held me at arm's length, a relieved smile on his face, before pulling me back for another hug. I hugged him back this time as tightly as I could before I tackled Sam. 

"I missed you Sammy." I squeezed him tightly. His hair was longer than I remembered, and he looked older and more mature. 

I didn't know why, but I thought I could feel 'Cas' tense up next to me. Which was impossible, considering we weren't even near each other anymore.

"I can't believe it." He said once he released me.

"Me neither. It looks like we have a lot to catch up on, huh?" 

"Yeah, yeah we do. But first, I've heard you've been through hell with the angel's. Let's get you a room." Dean agreed. I didn't miss the pointed glare he shot towards the angel in a trenchcoat, but I shrugged it off. I knew I was safe with the Winchesters. 

"Nice place." I commented as I followed Dean down a hallway. 

"Yeah, we've been here for about a month now. It's supposed to be the safest place against the supernatural and-"

"It's warded against everything." I finished for him. 

He stopped, turning back to look at me. "How did you-?"

"The Men of Letters bunker. I've heard of it. Didn't know it was actually real, though." I admitted. 

"Seems like we're the only ones who've never heard of it until now." He grumbled, and I laughed. He stopped in front of a door and pushed it ajar. "Here. It's pretty bare, but it's somewhere to stay."

"Dean I- Thank you." I was overwhelmed. I smiled and hugged him tightly again. "I'll be out of your hair as soo-"

"You're family. You're welcome here as long as you want." He interrupted. 

"We can catch up once you've gotten some sleep." He stood in the doorway, giving me a last glance before turning away. "Glad to have you back." 

-

When I woke up, the first thing I did was get up too quickly and immediately collide with the floor. I groaned, debating for several moments if it was even worth it to get up. Eventually, I decided it was, and I staggered down the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall. I felt even worse than I had yesterday. 

I followed the direction of the voices I heard, which sounded like Dean and Cas. They became louder and clearer the closer I came, and I could make out what they were saying. I paused, hesitating just around the corner.

"Dean, I didn't even know them before this-"

"Are you going to tell them, or am I going to have to?" I heard Dean ask furiously.

"I don't want them to feel obligated to me."

"They won't Cas, but they need to know!" He argued. "You can't keep them in the dark about something this big. Especially when they were tortured because of it."

"I know Dean I-" I chose now to make my entrance, acting as if I hadn't heard anything.

"Good morning." I said uncertainly, leaning against the corner. 

"You've been out for," Dean checked his phone. "Twenty nine hours." 

"Shit." I said under my breath. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. You looked like you needed it." I nodded in agreement, creeping into the room. Dean pulled out a chair next to his, inviting me to the table. I collapsed into it with a sigh, scrubbing my face with my hands. 

"I'll get you something to eat, yeah?" Dean offered. Before I had a chance to answer, he left with a sideways glance at the angel in front of me. I slumped forward onto the table tiredly. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked. I could feel his curious stare on me. I raised my head from my arms. 

"Fine." I lied. "Thank you," I paused. "Cas?" 

"Castiel." He introduced himself, reaching across the table. I hesitantly shook his hand, half expecting him to pull a trick on me. But he didn't; he only gave me a kind smile before releasing my band. 

"Don't thank me." He said quietly, folding his hands together. 

"You got me out of there." 

"You don't understand." He insisted. "I'm the reason they held you captive." 

"Yes, I knew that. But you saved me, and you didn't have to. Hell, you didn't even know me. So thank you." His eyes softened at that, and his shoulders relaxed. 

"I sense you're still feeling weak." I only frowned in response. "It's not going to go away on its own. I will have to heal you, but it can't be done all at once." 

"Why not?" 

"It would kill you." He said bluntly. "You're too weak for me to do it all at once." 

I just nodded, staring down at my hands. I still didn't trust the angel, and especially not this strange bond I felt between us. Like, for example, knew there was something he wanted to tell me, but he either didn't want to right now, or he was waiting for the right time. Either way, it both frustrated him and made him nervous. Which I thought was strange, considering angels weren't supposed to feel. I thought about bringing it up, but something told me not to. 

"Here you go." Dean saved me from saying something I would regret. He carried a plate with a thick burger that smelled amazing, and a trio of beer bottles. "Fresh from the kitchen."

"You made this?" I asked in surprise. 

Dean made a face. "'Course I did." 

"Holy shit this is good." I bit into the burger and washed it down with a swig of beer. I watched as Castiel popped his own beer open and drank from it. "Thanks." 

"Where's Sam?" I asked once I had several more bites of the juicy burger. 

"Doing research for a case." Dean answered.

 "Hey Cas, did you tell them yet?" He asked suddenly, with a pointed look. 

"I- Yes." He frowned. "They're going to need intermittent healing. It would be too hard on their body to heal them all at once, and it would likely kill them." 

I didn't need the strange empathy link or whatever it was to tell me he was avoiding the actual question, Dean's expression said it all. But he still nodded. "And you're good with that?" 

I grimaced. "Honestly, after everything I've been through with the other angels? Not at all. But if you guys trust him, then I do, too." Dean nodded. 

"So uh, do we get started now or..?" I trailed off. 

"There's no way for sure to tell how you will react, but you will likely pass out-"

"It's that bad?" 

"This isn't physical healing. Your soul has been weakened drastically from being shoved back into your body so many times." He explained.

"Oh." 

"I suggest we start tonight, when you're ready to sleep." I glanced at Dean nervously.

"You're in good hands." He reassured me. 

I spent the rest of the day in the library even after the two had left reading over the more interesting books and dozing in and out of sleep. At some point I must have fallen asleep for a while, because I startled awake to the bunker door opening; which sounded eerily similar to the door of my prison when I had been held captive by the other angels. 

A tall figure came down the stairs, and I realized it was Sam. "Hey." 

"Hey." He looked surprised to see me. "How are you feeling?" 

"Been better." I admitted. He nodded in acknowledgement, sprawling out in the chair opposite me and glancing at the book I was reading. 

"Don't you already know all there is to know about werewolves?" He teased.

"There's gotta be something I don't know." I mused, playing with the corner of the page. I didn't want to admit that I had been staring blankly at the pages for most of the day. "Find anything in your travels?" 

"It's a pair of vetalas." He said. 

"Mm. You might want to tell Dean that." I hummed tiredly. 

"Why?" I smiled in amusement at the look on his face. "What's he doing now?'

"Don't worry, he's not doing anything stupid. I mean, no more than usual. I was just saying." He huffed out a laugh, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. I pushed my chair away from the table, but as soon as I stood, I doubled over at the fierce pounding in my head. I heard Sam's worried voice, and then I felt his hands on my shoulders. 

"I'm fine, Sammy." I groaned. 

"I'll get Cas-" He said worriedly. 

"No, I'm okay." I straightened up. My legs were shaking, and I leaned against the giant next to me heavily. "I'm just going to head to bed."

"I'll help you back to your room, at least." He offered.

I lifted my arm for him to loop his own underneath me. He had to bend down quite a bit at the ridiculous height difference. We shuffled awkwardly to my room, and with every step the hall seemed to spin a little faster. 

"Thanks." I muttered after he had pushed the door open and released me onto my bed. 

"Anytime." He smiled. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." I mumbled, rolling onto my side and curling under my blankets. I shivered, pulling them closer to me.

I had just begun to drift off to sleep when there was a knock at the door. I figured it was Dean, for whatever reason, so I called out, "Come in," which was quieter than I had intended. He must have heard me regardless, because the door opened, and a tall figure stepped through. I squinted, then realized it wasn't Dean and shot up, reaching for my knife on the bedside table.

"It's me." Castiel's voice said, and my body immediately relaxed even though I didn't want it to. "Dean told me you would be sleeping." 

"Not yet." I propped myself against the headboard, eyeing the angel as he came closer. He pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat. 

"Get comfortable." He told me. I settled onto my side uneasily, feeling much too vulnerable for my liking. I couldn't help but to flinch slightly when his glowing fingers reached for my forehead. The warmth that ebbed through my body fought away the chills. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I was out like a light.

-

The following days, I was still very weak, and I found if I did anything for too long, there was the chance that I might just suddenly pass out. One minute I had been going through the countless shelves of the library, and the next, Dean was shaking me awake with a terrified look on his face. I was confused and disoriented.

I also found myself falling unconscious randomly while researching. It was annoying, to say the least, but I would never admit that it scared me, too. After being healed for the third time, I wondered if I would ever be back to normal. And as the angel followed me into my room for the fourth night in a row, I finally asked. 

"Cas," I started as he settled into the chair at my bedside. I played with the edge of the blankets, before turning onto my side to face him. "How long is this going to take?"

"I'm not entirely sure. It will take a while."

"I mean, how far along is it?" 

He hesitated, trying to find the right way to explain it. "In medical terms, I'm still in the process of stitching you up. Then there is the healing." He frowned. "It's going slower than I would like."

"Do you know why the angels thought I had some connection to you?" I asked him.

His frown deepened at my question. "I do not." I could sense through the weird bond I shared with him that he was lying. Before I could ask anymore questions, he touched his fingers to my forehead, and I was unconscious. 

-

I was sitting at the library table, pouring over more books for another case the guys were on. It was just me and the angel left in the bunker. I had overheard him arguing with Dean again before they had left. 

"You need to tell them, Cas. Today. Or I will." Dean had ground out. 

I heard Cas sigh. "I will. I promise, I will." 

My head jerked up at the sound of footsteps. I sensed his presence before I heard them, but I hadn't thought he was so close. 

"Cas." I greeted him. I had to admit that his presence had a calming effect on me, and I would be lying if I said I didn't welcome it.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he pulled up a chair across from me. 

"Better, I think." I answered genuinely this time. I'd been at the bunker for a week and a half now. "Where are we at now?"

"Beginning the healing process." He told me. Finally some good news. 

 "I have something to tell you." I sensed his nervousness all of a sudden, and I glanced up from the book. I tilted my head, indicating I was listening.

"Remember when you asked why Bartholomew thought you had connections to me?" He asked. 

I nodded. "Yeah. I thought that was just because I was close with the Winchesters-"

"You're my soulmate." His voice was tentative and almost meek. 

"You're- How- Oh." I sucked in a breath of shock. 

"It's not usually an occurrence between humans like you think," He explained. "But angels are promised a kindred spirit."

"Are they always humans?"

"Not always. Sometimes they're another angel." I nodded. I could feel the emotions whirling through him, and combined with my own, I felt lightheaded. Now I knew why. 

"I'm sorry." He said suddenly.

"Why would you be sorry?" I asked. "If this had to happen, I don't think I could have asked for someone better."

His blue eyes met mine, and I couldn't resist the urge to reach for his hand across the table. "Cas." I said softly. 

"I am sorry. Not just for the bond. For what Bartholomew did to you because of me."

"It's not your fault." I paused as everything seemed to fall into place. "That's why they kept killing me, isn't it?"

"I can feel what you're feeling and at first I didn't think it was anything but now…" I trailed off. "You could feel what I was feeling when they tortured me, couldn't you?" 

His face was anguished, but he didn't answer me directly. He squeezed my hand tight. "I can explain it all to you, if you want." 

I nodded. "I'd like that." 

-

It had taken almost three weeks of intermittent healing from Castiel for me to feel more like myself, and for him to deem me completely healed. Being research bound had been tough, especially when I wanted nothing more than to help the Winchesters and not be a burden, but I had stopped offering after Dean had not-so-jokingly threatened to lock me in the dungeon if I sneaked away with them on another case. 

It wasn't all dust and books though, because when I wasn't doing research, I was talking to Castiel. He had explained to me about soulmates in detail; how we had a sort of link to feel our mate's emotions, and how the bond strengthened enough for me to sense it once we met. But he had been able to sense it all along. 

He told me that it didn't have to be-and in some cases, even wasn't-romantic. Sometimes soulmates didn't even like each other, and sometimes, more often than not, an angel may not even find their kindred spirit. It was just that he held a bit of my soul, and I possessed a very small amount of his grace, linking us together whether we liked it or not. Although I don't think either of us minded, not once we had gotten past my whole 'angels are all bad' thing initially. Even then, it felt like I had instinctively trusted him. 

Now that he wasn't using his grace on me nightly though, I was also having a hard time sleeping. Getting to sleep was difficult, but doable. But once I got to sleep, the nightmares started, and I would wake up in a cold sweat several times at night. More often than not, I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. It had been wearing on me since he stopped using his grace to heal me, and I started to go downhill again quickly. 

I knew the angel noticed through our bond, and I could sense that he wanted to bring it up. But he never did. I didn't know how to turn off feeling what he was feeling, but I knew he did, and I could sense when he tapped in sometimes. I know he didn't want to take advantage of our bond, because he rarely tapped in anymore, and I appreciated it. But when he was close enough, it was impossible for even him to not sense what I was feeling. 

I woke up in a cold sweat from another nightmare of my time in the angel's dungeon, except this time, it had been Castiel behind the torture. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I couldn't stop hyperventilating. I curled up in a ball under my blankets, shaking and paranoid. I peeked out to check on the clock after a while, and found out almost an hour had passed since I first woke up. I was exhausted, and I knew it was more than obvious to Cas now, even if we hadn't shared the bond. I could see the lack of sleep on myself too.

Sam and Dean were out of the bunker again leaving just me and Castiel, I thought.

I managed to pull myself away from my pile of blankets. I opened the door quietly and padded down the hall. As I walked, I was regretting my decision more and more. But the tiredness that tugged at my body, and my mind's insistence on reliving horrible things pulled me to the angel's room like a magnet. I realized I wasn't even sure where his room was, but I followed my instincts that had led me this far down the hall. My feet stopped in front of a door. 

"Cas?" I asked quietly. When there was no answer, I knocked.

"Castiel?" I bit my lip nervously, beginning to turn away. I must have the wrong door, or he was sleeping or-

The door knob turned, and I jumped slightly. "You're..awake. Why are you awake?" The angel squinted at me, his voice raspy. He didn't wear his trenchcoat, or his suit jacket. He was just in his dress shirt, with the top buttons unbuttoned. It was wrinkled like he had been lying down in it, or maybe even sleeping.

"I- I couldn't sleep." I answered, and silently cursed myself. 

His expression softened, and he stepped aside, inviting me in. I tentatively stepped past the boundary of the door. The click of the latch sounded much too final to me. "What's wrong?" He asked. I felt him tap into our bond, and I didn't even try to hide what I was feeling. 

"Nightmares." I responded quietly. I didn't elaborate, I knew he could sense it, and I didn't want to tell him what they had been about. Who they had been about, this time. 

"If it makes you feel better, you can sleep here." He offered awkwardly. 

"I don't want to intrude," I backpedaled. "I mean, when you were using your grace to heal me, I wasn't having nightmares. They just started when you stopped, I guess."

Castiel frowned. "Yes, well, I could do that again, but I think it would be best if we could find a more natural way, long term." 

"I agree. It's just, I haven't really slept like, nearly at all since then." I tried to let out a nervous laugh.

"Could I..Would you mind trying something?" 

"I guess." I looked at him curiously when he took my hand and led me to the bed. It was then I noticed that the bed was messed up. He had been sleeping. 

"Sorry for waking you up." I said guiltily, sitting down next to him.

"It's alright." He gave me a reassuring smile. "I don't need to sleep, but it does help replenish my energy." 

"Lie down." He told me. I did as he said, but frowned. 

"Cas, I don't wanna take your bed from you." 

"You're not." He said. I stared in confusion until he laid down next to me. Without warning, he snaked his arm around me, pulling me closer so my head was resting in the crook of his neck. 

I should have tensed up, but instead my body instinctively relaxed against him. It felt like every part of me relaxed-physically and mentally-even parts that had been tense for what felt like years. It was like being this close to him, my soulmate, pressed some sort of reset button to everything and released all of my tension. I wouldn't mind doing this every night, but I quickly shook that thought away. 

"Is this okay?" He asked me quietly. 

"Yeah," I murmured, nestling closer to him. "This is definitely okay."

"Good." His voice rumbled in his chest.  

I drifted off, listening to the beat of his heart.