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He'd been asleep, he could feel the weight of his eyelids and the grogginess of his muscles. The feeling quickly faded and he was wide awake. He tossed the covers aside and ran a hand down his face. It's the middle of the night and Dean couldn't seem to fall asleep again.
Insomnia wasn't uncommon for hunters, but somehow this felt different. There was a sense of alarm to it. Something was wrong, but if not with him, then with who? Hunting taught him to always trust your instincts. Now they were telling him to fight.
In his boxers and the nearest shirt, he stalked through the hallways until he heard something that resembled whimpering. His heartbeat accelerated, his ears strained to find the source. The tone was all too familiar. Please let them be okay, he thought to himself.
His muscles tensed around the trigger of the gun he had pulled out from one of his bedside drawers, ready to put holes into anything that moved. He closed in, certain Sammy was not the one in pain. Sweat was making his shirt stick to his back as he soundlessly placed his hand on the doorknob.
He could feel the twitching, his body getting ready to defend from an unknown danger. The only comfort he found was that dead men tell no tales . Dean opened the door to Castiel's room in one swift motion, getting a full view of a room in chaos. A room without an attacker. But most importantly; Cas was in distress, crouched against the wall.
The frown he'd been wearing dissolved into deeper wrinkles of worry as he crossed the room in mere seconds. His hands found Cas' face automatically, he tried to wipe away the continuous flow of tears with his thumbs. The angel's body jerked upwards sporadically, his skin cold to the touch, those beautiful blue eyes were bloodshot and staring into a world Dean couldn't see.
It felt like something had clawed at his heart, seeing the ex-angel like that. Before he knew, he’d wrapped his arms around Cas and started whispering words of comfort like he’d done for Sam so many times. Cas didn’t seem to resist his touch, leaning in instead. He could feel Cas’ heartbeat beat irregularly and felt the man’s ragged breath graze his cheek.
Only when Cas dug his nails into Dean’s back did he stop blaming himself for not protecting Cas from all the horrors he’s had to face. This new painful stranglehold was accompanied by muttering in a language the hunter didn’t speak. As Cas’ mumbling grew louder Dean realized he was repeating the same phrase over and over.
It sounded like something Enochian, as far as Dean could tell. Veenu, Dene, Minu, Denu? He’d never heard the phrase before, but it seemed very important to Cas. Only then Dean noticed he hadn’t said anything the whole time he’d been here. Did Cas even know that he wasn’t alone?
“Sshh Cas, I’m here, Dean’s here. You’re not alone.” Dean whispered and Cas stopped shaking in response to his voice. So Dean kept talking, about the great things Cas had done and the fun things they’d do together, how he was strong even without his wings, that he and Sam thought of him like family… Even after the tears had stopped and his skin felt warm to the touch, as usual, Dean kept talking as though his life depended on it.
At some point they fell asleep, because they woke up on the cold stone floor, limbs entangled with one another. When it dawned on Dean what it looked like he scrambled away from Cas and sat down on the bed.
When Cas tilted his head and squinted at him, Dean muttered “I uh-you had a nightmare so I-” stumbling over his words.
Cas seemed unfazed by his struggle and simply stated: “I’m aware, thank you, Dean.”
“Don’t mention it, buddy,” Dean said and dropped his gaze to the floor.
They sat in silence for a while until the grogginess of sleep wore off and Cas got up from his uncomfortable sleeping position. He seems unsure of what to do next and stood before Dean hoping to say something, but decided against it and headed for the door.
“You were mumbling something last night…” Dean starts and Cas halts in the open doorway.
“I’m afraid I don’t recall.” Cas finally speaks, his voice trembling with worry. He shakes his head and continues with a warmer tone of voice “I do remember your voice pulling me out of my nightmare.”
Then Cas turns the corner and leaves Dean with cheeks burning with what he claimed was pride, but knew was embarrassment. He sat there going over what just happened again and again until the aroma of caffeine drifting into the room sparked his determination. He went and grabbed himself a mug of coffee and set to research what Cas had said last night.
He marched up to Cas after and pulled him into a hug. “I’m here” he whispered into the angel’s ear and they both held each other until Sam walked in and they quickly stepped away from each other. Sam, however, kept an eye on them all day, wondering whether he missed the official start of DeanCas. His suspicions rose when he sat down at his laptop and found one curious fact highlighted on the web page:
Denu is old English and the origin of the name Dean.