@mcmachine from [here]
April was surprisingly good at this. It shouldn’t be surprising, really. She dealt with traumatized people all the time, Dean was sure. Hell, she had enough trauma of her own. But he was not used to this...support. He knew Sam would give it to him, if he could bring himself to ask for it. But he couldn’t lean on his little brother like that. He had to be strong for him. April, though, could see this side of him. For some reason, he could let her. He managed to keep himself from flinching at her touch; her hands were softer, gentler and more feminine than the touch he was afraid of. “He was...I saw him. I was back there, I...” You’re out you’re out you’re out. He tried to listen to her and do what she instructed. He was afraid to close his eyes, so he focused on her face as he forced himself to breathe in and out a few times, until it got a little bit easier, and he could do more than gasp.
“Sorry.” Was the first thing he said, once the flashback faded into the background. He rubbed at his face to hide the wetness of his eyes. God, he hated being weak. “I don’t usually...It’s been a while since that happened.” It had been a while since Hell, and part of Dean felt like it was ridiculous to still be affected by it. But the real reason it had been a while since he’d had a flashback to Alastair’s torment was because he’d learned to avoid certain triggers. “I just...there are some songs I can’t listen to anymore.” It had come on the radio, one of the songs Alastair had liked to hum to him, while he worked. They’d been having a nice night together and of course Dean had to ruin it. “M’sorry. You don’t have to...m’okay now.” He didn’t know why, but he had the urge to tell her everything, shit he didn’t talk about with anyone, ever. He bit his tongue. April didn’t deserve to have that put on her. What would she think, if she knew he’d been to Hell? Didn’t that damn him, literally? He didn’t want her to look at him differently. Especially if she found out about the things he did down there.