[ʎ ʇ d ɯ ǝ]
It’s silent. It’s ever so silent, but so loud at once. A neverending humming in his ear, in his mind. It fills his thoughts and his being until he can hardly breathe. He’s empty, but he’s so full, he’s going to burst, it’s too much. It makes no sense—he shouldn’t need to breathe, but the room is spinning and the darkness is vast and all around him while nowhere at once, and he can’t breathebreathebreathe—"Cas!” There’s a strong hand on his shoulder and the angel sits up with a start, a frown marring his features as the world loses the faded edges of sleep and turns crisp, worried green eyes coming into focus, “Dean?”
Castiel looks around. They’re in the library, in the bunker. He vaguely remembers poring over some of these books, hoping to find some sort of locator spell that would help him find Jack.
“Hey,” Dean’s voice is gentler than it should have the right to be—gentler than he deserves, considering all the things they’ve left unsaid, “Hey, buddy, you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”
The frown deepens, and he finds himself reciting the old company line, “Angels aren’t supposed to dream.”
Dean’s wry smile isn’t enough to hide the concern in his voice, “Well, you’ve always been a rebel.” “Dean.” Castiel tries to sound exasperated, he really does. It’s ridiculous, Dean is ridiculous, but the joke steals a chuckle from him nonetheless. He can tell Dean is still worried, but the hunter’s shoulders lose a bit of their stiffness at his reaction.
The warmth is gone from his shoulder as Dean straightens up, but he offers Castiel a hand up—a silent truce, “Wanna go get a beer?”
He isn’t really thirsty and it’s only 10 in the morning, but Castiel can recognize the gesture for what it is. They won’t talk about it, but Dean’s not going to let him go through this alone, “Yes, I believe I would like a beer.” They still need to talk about a million things—not talking is what got them here in the first place, after all. But as he takes Dean’s hand and brings himself to his feet, he thinks maybe this is the right first step for them.
Dean claps him on the back once before leading the way to the kitchen, and it feels like Castiel’s heart starts beating again. Hopeful. Full.
