John managed
to put away a half a bottle while lying on his bed. Dean tossed and turned, waking up with a
start, eyes wide in terror. The angel
would breathe a soft breath against the sweat covered skin. He would touch the boy on his cheek and run
his fingers through blond hair.
‘It’s all
right,’ came a soft whisper like a breeze.
The boy had
no idea where it came from but was reminded of his mother. Once in a while, there would be a soft sob,
and hands trying to wipe away unseen blood.
The angel kept up his soft touches and whispers.
The blond
head would turn and make sure his sleeping brother was okay. Castiel knew that he needed someone to just
hold onto. He put his arms around the
child, knowing there would be no pressure of arms holding the boy.
‘You are
loved, Dean. You are protected. Sleep, child.
I am always here.’
The young
boy curled up next to his brother with an angel curled up next to him. The breath of air was there, and with it, a
strange sense of peace and comfort.
There were no more nightmares that night.
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