Dean closed his mouth with a small frown.

He wasn’t dumb, he was beginning to see a pattern, and he realized he pushed too far again. Made Samuel uncomfortable again, and that was the last thing Dean wanted. He wanted the angel to feel the way he did. To like having him close. To like touching him. To convince him that the ‘rules’, whatever they were, were stupid rules.

But he didn’t want Samuel afraid or uncomfortable.

Probably the only reason why Samuel hadn’t ordered him out of his lap or scolded him already, was because of what happened in the bath earlier. That made the young man feel a bit guilty as he took the angel’s dessert, as well as the spoon because Samuel insisted.

Dean flicked the channel back to the history one, even though it bored him terribly, because he knew it was the only channel Samuel seemed to like to watch. He ate the dessert quietly, trying not to move too much in the angel’s lap, or lick the spoon too much. All the while sending warm and comforting feelings over the mental link they shared, like Samuel often did for him.

When the young man finished the chocolate dessert he shifted to set the empty plate down on the coffee table and smiled up at the angel.

Thank you. He sent warmly, snuggling a little against the angel, and settling in to watch the TV quietly.

In the absence of additional stimulation, the foreign needs that seemed to have overtaken his body slowly eased and Sam was able to breathe again. He had to smile at the mind brushes he was receiving. Wasn’t that usually an angel’s job? To give another comfort? To reduce agitation? To calm?

You’re welcome. He had a feeling he should be thanking Dean for giving him peace, but instead he whispered, “change the channel. I’ve seen this several times.”

As Dean flipped through channels, Sam made note of the things that seemed to interest him. Some of it bored Sam to death, but some he actually enjoyed. When Dean stopped on the sports channel and they started to watch the NASCAR races, he had to admit he got into it. Mostly it was Dean’s reactions and cheers that got him interested, but he did know a thing or two about some of the drivers and his promise that they could go to a race in the near future drew such a warm reaction, you’d think Dean had just hit the lottery.

Hours passed just like that, and Sam found himself running his hands through Dean’s hair and stroking his face. “You’re like a pet cat, I can practically hear you purr,” he teased. “But your eyes are closing, let’s get you to bed.”

Because of his nightmare the night before, Sam walked Dean to his room and all but tucked him in. “Do you want me to leave the hall light on and we can leave your door open?”

Dean made a sleepy protest when Samuel suggested that he go to bed. Complaining that he wasn’t tired, even though he could barely keep his eyes open. He was exhausted actually, and he knew it. He just didn’t want to move. He didn’t want Samuel to stop petting his hair like he was, and he half hoped if he fell asleep in the angel’s lap like this they could stay this way for the rest of the night.

No such luck it seemed, and the young man pouted impressively as the angel helped him up and guided him into his room. Samuel pulling back the covers and easing him down into the bed. Covering him up.

The young man’s eyes were already closing again as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he reached out to grasp the angel’s hand anyway before Sam could move away.

“Can’t you just… stay with me again?” Dean asked hopefully. Knowing this probably wasn’t the way to convince Samuel he was ‘grown up’ if he didn’t want to sleep alone with the door open and a light on. But right now he was more concerned with the angel not leaving him alone than Sam thinking him a child.

Sam closed his hand around Dean’s and squeezed. One thing the young man had lacked all of his life was being touched, and Sam was making up for it the best way he could. “You’re safe, Dean. Trust me, nothing… nothing will get in here. There’s nothing out there that wants to tangle with me in my territory.” His eyebrows were raised in reassurance, “I’m not all peace, love and halos, you know?”

Chuckling, he bent over Dean and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Then saying a short bed time prayer, he let his hand go and walked out, leaving the door slightly cracked open so he could see the light from the hall. I’m only a thought away. Staying only a moment longer, he walked away.

A few hours later, Sam was sitting in bed, with pillows piled behind his back and eyes trained on the screen of his lap top. He was actively monitoring potential hot spots around the world where there was more than usual demonic activity. That could be a sign of the expansion of hell… something that had to be stopped at all costs. He rubbed his eyes as he waited for final stats on North America to pop up.

Dean couldn't help but smile a little when Sam explained that he wasn't all 'peace, love, and halos'.

No, the young man definitely didn't think that. Not after seeing what the angel had done to the hospital director. He shivered a little at the memory of watching the angel and the demon fight over him. Dean knew he would never think of angels quite the same way again.

But it wasn't what was 'out there' that Dean was afraid of. At least, not while he was here with Samuel in his apartment. Dean had never felt so safe anywhere in his life as he felt here. It was just…

He didn't want to have nightmares… He'd had nightmares most of his life, every night, and he had no control over them. It didn't help that almost everything he dreamed of was real. Real memories, not his imagination. Memories of Hell. Memories of Rick. His years at the asylum. Every frightening thing he had seen as a child, that they'd told him was only his imagination, but was real…

He knew they were all waiting for him. In the darkness. Waiting him to close his eyes. Waiting for when he was completely defenseless, and then they would strike.

The only time he didn't have nightmares was when Samuel was with him. He wanted argue, try to convince the angel to change his mind, but he also didn't want to look like a baby… so he simply nodded. Forcing himself to release Samuel's hand when the angel pulled away, even though he didn't want to. His eyes following the angel until he was out of sight, and even then Dean didn't look away from the doorway for a long time.

***

The young man stared at the clock on his bedside table. The glowing green numbers felt like they were burning into the back of his skull. It was well after midnight. His eyes had drifted closed a few times, only to startle awake before he could really fall into a deep sleep. Nightmares starting almost as soon as his eyes shut. Dean tried to think of good things instead. The day he'd spent with Samuel. Hoping he'd dream of that instead, but it wasn't working. Every time he closed his eyes he'd see Rick, or the hospital director, or the demons in hell that wanted to tear him to shreds.

He tried to hide his growing agitation from Samuel. Wanting to prove to the angel that he could do this, at least. That he wasn't completely helpless. He wasn't a child… But after startling awake for possibly the tenth time, Dean made a helpless sound in the back of his throat as he pushed aside his covers and climbed out of bed. Every step he took towards Samuel's room hesitant, arguing with himself every step of the way. Until he finally stood in the angel's doorway.

Samuel was still awake. Working on a laptop and didn't seem to notice him yet. A part of him insisted he should go back to his room right now before the angel did, but instead he just stood there like he was rooted in place. Biting his lip nervously, trying to think of something to say.

Feeling Dean's presence, Samuel looked up. If he hadn't seen the flash of uncertainty in Dean's eyes, or felt him being torn between his need for comfort and his fear of what Sam might think, he might have told him to go back to his room. Instead, he closed his computer, set it aside and raised the duvet up. "Come on."

As Dean scrambled inside the bed, Sam shut the lights and turned again, this time pulling Dean into his arms and holding him tight against his chest, allowing him to feel his warmth and giving all the comfort he could offer. "It will get better, I promise, it will," he said, stroking Dean's smooth bare back. "You've had a hard life, harder than most in this country."

He felt a shudder run through Dean, and knew that there were some wounds that only time could heal. "You're used to a world of nightmares, and your body and mind haven't adjusted to these new circumstances. It'll happen, maybe slowly… but it will. You just have to keep trying, alright? It's all I expect of you. So long as you try, you won't disappoint me." He sensed that was a huge concern that Dean shouldered, and that no matter how many times he told him that he wouldn't get thrown out, the fear would always be there. "Life is full of successes and failures. There is only one who is infallible, and the rest of us… we can only try. Hmm?"

The relief the young man felt when Samuel looked up at him and then set aside the laptop and lifted his covers in invitation was almost enough to make him weak in the knees. Dean wasted no time then crawling into the bed next to the angel and pressing himself close.

Muscles that had been tense all night as he’d tried to sleep in his own bed finally unknotting when Sam wrapped his arms around him. A gentle hand stroking away any lingering anxiety and he let out a shuddering sigh as he relaxed against the angel’s chest.

He nodded slightly in understanding, but exhaustion was already beginning to pull him under towards sleep. He simply couldn’t keep his eyes open even if he wanted to just enjoy being wrapped up in the angel’s warm comforting arms for just a little while longer.

I love you. The thought slipped out before he could stop it, but almost before he even realized it had, Dean had already fallen asleep.