Sam snuggled back against the warm body behind him and felt the arm wrapped around his waist as he slowly began to wake up. He heard footsteps and came awake instantly. He tried to get out of Dean's hold but Dean didn't seem to want to let him go. The footsteps were his mother's and though soft, he still heard them. He grabbed Dean's wrist and tugged hard and managed to roll way from Dean's grip. Dean shifted unhappily and reached out for Sam, making a small sound of complaint. Sam smacked his hand. Dean was now in the middle of the bed, so Sam couldn't very well slide back under the covers. Besides his mom had probably heard the bedsprings squeak. Sam made sure his sweats were on properly, and was stretching and yawning when the curtain was pulled aside.

"Morning," he said sleepily to her. He walked past her and straight into the bathroom and took care of business. He didn't have to go that badly, but he would prefer for his mom to think that's what woke him up. By the time he came back out, his mother was in the kitchen.

"Did you sleep okay?" Keiko asked him.

Sam wrinkled his nose. "Dean's a bed hog. I practically fell out of bed this morning when I woke up I was so close to the edge."

"I think Dean's been here long enough that you can sleep in your own bed tonight."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so too. He hasn't had any more nightmares. I'm going to go shower. What's for breakfast?"

"Waffles."

Sam smacked his lips. "Yum. I'll be back down to help in a few."

Relieved his mother hadn't caught them, with Dean's arm around his waist, he breathed a sigh of relief as he got fresh clothes from his room and showered. Least his heart wasn't pounding like an out of control freight train anymore. He returned to the kitchen as soon as he was done and began setting the table.

Dean was having a really good dream, as was evidenced by his half hard cock pressing against a warm thigh that was connected to the equally warm body in his arms. He sighed contentedly, inhaling the scent of Sam’s soap and a bit of sweat that lingered in the younger boy’s hair. He didn’t think he’d ever woken up with someone in his bed, in his arms, before. At least not intentionally, and Dean liked it. He liked it a lot. When he felt Sam press back against him, closing the space between them even further, Dean instinctively held the younger boy a little tighter.

Yeah, a very good dream…

But of course it didn’t last. Sam was pulling away from him… or was he being taken away? That thought caused a spike of panic to be driven into his heart and he held onto the other boy even tighter, but his efforts were proven futile. Someone grabbed him, or maybe it was more than one person, or maybe it was nothing at all, but something held him as Sam was wrenched away from his arms. Sam was calling out his name, his face and voice terrified and pleading with him as he was dragged away. He managed to finally free an arm at least to reach out for Sam but the thing holding him or maybe it was the pain, stopped him from following, from going to Sam’s aid, to stop him from being taken away.

No, no not again. No…

He struggled, he thrashed, but the invisible force wouldn’t let him go. Dean called out for Sam over and over as he fought but there was no answer. At least… no answer from Sam. Suddenly Dean was released and as he fell he swore he saw the flash of yellow eyes in the darkness and heard a cold cruel laugh. In all his previous dreams of the yellow eyed man, he’d never heard him speak, now the voice made every hair on his body stand on end.

He was never yours to begin with.

Dean woke up with a small cry of pain when he hit the floor, still fighting the sheets that had become tangled around him from his thrashing. His heart hammering so loud in his chest it was all he could hear, and panic still pumping hard through his veins when he cried out the younger boy’s name aloud this time.

“Sam!”

The waffles were beginning to smell really good, and so was the bacon. He heard his father getting his shower and figured by the time his dad was in the kitchen, the first of the waffles would be done cooking. His mom was really good like that, always had a knack for having the food ready at just the perfect time.

Sam had just gotten the silverware out of the kitchen drawer when he heard the thump and the cry of his name. Dropping the pile of silverware on the table he was down the hall in a flash, his mother hot on his heels. Sam saw Dean lying on the floor, fighting with the tan sheets that were tangled all about his body.

"Dean, wake up!" Sam practically yelled at him as he rushed to Dean's side. Sam grabbed Dean's shoulders and got an elbow alongside his face as Dean continued to fight to get free of the sheets. Keiko moved up to Dean's head and held his shoulders. Sam managed to get some of the sheets pulled free, releasing Dean's arms but taking a kick to his side in the process.

His cheek already began to feel tight where Dean hit him, but he caught the senior's arms at that point, holding them firmly, wishing his mother wasn't here so he could kiss Dean awake, but also glad she was there to help.

"Dean! Dean, it's okay, you're safe. I'm right here. I'm safe too," Sam said firmly.

It took longer than Dean would have wanted to admit to realize that he was awake, to realize that the nightmare was over. That it had only been another nightmare. That it was plain simple sheets trapping him in place and not the invisible bonds of a demon. That the hands he was fighting against weren’t trying to hurt him, to hold him while Sam was being taken away by the demon, taken away like his mother, like his father, had been taken from him. That Sam wasn’t calling to him for help… but to wake up…

Dean stilled suddenly, breathing heavily, his face and body drenched in sweat. He stared up at Sam, almost like he’d never seen him before, blinking a few times. Then he began to shake. Trembling so hard his teeth practically rattled inside of his head.

He didn’t think about what he was doing when he suddenly sat up, the hold on his shoulders having relaxed when he’d stilled, and wrapped his arms around the younger boy. Dean was still shaking even as he held Sam tight.

“Not going to let him take you… not again…” Dean barely realized he was speaking over and over.

Sam hugged Dean back after a moment and gave his mom a helpless if confused look. "Nobody's taking me anywhere. I'm right here."

He couldn't believe how soaked with sweat Dean was or the way he was trembling in Sam's arms. And the way Dean was holding on to him, like someone was going to just rip him away from Dean. It was actually tight enough Sam couldn't really take a deep breath. He ran his hand through Dean's hair. "It's okay Dean," he soothed.

Giving his mother a nod, he indicated that he had this and she could leave. There was food cooking after all. And he really wanted to be alone with Dean. His mother nodded back and rose to her feet. "You let me know if you need anything," she told him softly.

Holding Dean nearly as tightly as Dean was holding him, he tried to reassure him. "Eric's not here and I know you won't let him get his hands on me. I have faith you'll protect me. It was just a really bad dream. That's all. You're awake and I'm here and it's all going to be fine. Mom's even making us waffles."

It seemed to take forever for the panic to fade. Even though it really could only have been a few minutes. But thanks to Sam’s soft words and soothing touches Dean’s heart finally began to slow, he gradually stopped shaking like a leaf in the storm, and he could breathe without feeling like he was being choked by an invisible hand. Slowly, Dean lessened his grip around the younger boy, knowing his hold must be painful, but he didn’t let go of Sam completely. The fear was still there, sharp and tasting like death.

Those eyes… that voice… So real, it had all felt so real. The terror he had felt was certainly real. But it was just a dream… right? It had to be just another fucking nightmare… but Sam dreamed about yellow eyes too. There was no reason for Sam to dream about yellow eyes. The same yellow eyes that haunted his nightmares, belonging to a demon that had killed his family… What if the yellow eyed demon was really after Sam?

Eric… Sam thought Dean had been dreaming about Eric. Fuck… Dean didn’t know if he should be grateful or not that Sam only thought this was about that bastard. Should he tell Sam? But what if it was just another stupid nightmare, Dean didn’t want to scare Sam needlessly. Especially when Sam had his own nightmares to deal with.

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Finally releasing Sam enough so that he could pull back and look at the younger boy, Dean gave him a sheepish look.

“Sorry… didn’t mean to freak you out. Guess this is really ruining my bad ass image, huh?” Dean tried to joke, even managing to give the younger boy a shaky smile.

It seemed to take forever for Dean to calm down, for the trembling of his muscles to ease and finally disappear. Sam took a discretely deeper breath when Dean finally relaxed his hold on him. He didn't understand how a nightmare about Eric could have shaken Dean so completely. Even if Eric had put Dean on the ground with that targeted punch, it just didn't seem to fit Dean's psychological make-up to be that freaked out over it. Maybe it was just because Dean was laid up and had to trust his cousin to look out for Sam. If Dean had been that worried, he knew, just knew, that Dean would have insisted Sam stay home.

"You pretty much ruined your bad-ass image with me a long time ago," Sam teased Dean gently. "I know you're a sucker for a pretty face and hot ass."

Sam carefully extracted himself from Dean's arms. "C'mon, let's get you untangled," he said and began to pull at the sheets. "I want to check your side too and make sure you didn't rip any of your stitches again."

With Dean's help, they disentangled his body and then Sam peeled back the bandage carefully. "Some fresh blood seeping, but no ripped stitches," he said with relief. "Still, let me clean it and put on a fresh bandage. You know, I'm beginning to think you like it here so much you don't want to leave, the way you keep hurting yourself. Either that or you like Mom's cooking and us catering to your every whim. Just stay put while I get the antibacterial rinse."

Sam hurried to the bathroom and returned almost as fast with a handful of supplies. After wetting down a four by four with the antibacterial wash, he gently patted at Dean's side, cleaning away the blood, smeared antibiotic cream over the wound, then replaced the bandage with a fresh one. "Okay, humpty-dumpty. You're in one piece again. You want me to get Dad to help you back into bed, or do you just want to have me help you up? How are you feeling?"

Dean rolled his eyes a little when Sam informed him he’d already pretty much ruined his bad ass image already. The older boy couldn’t even really deny it either. He also couldn’t deny the younger boy’s comment about him being a sucker for a pretty face and hot ass, so Dean merely grinned at Sam. Letting his eyes travel down the length of Sam’s body and giving the boy a long lingering look for emphasis. Dean was definitely a sucker for Sam.

He nodded slightly when Sam offered to help him get untangled and by then Dean was feeling better enough to feel a little embarrassed about having rolled out of bed during a nightmare. Sam’s mom had come in with the younger boy too to help him calm down. Yeah, definitely ruining his image. Dean sighed softly.

Dean nodded again and let the younger boy check the bandage on his side, his relief mirroring Sam’s when he saw that he hadn’t done any new damage. Fuck, he did not want to have to go back to the hospital to get re-stitched again. He definitely didn’t want to keep hurting himself, that was for damned sure. Despite his ‘bad-ass’ reputation, he didn’t enjoy pain. Dean rolled his eyes a little again at Sam’s comment about him wanting to stick around for his mother’s cooking. Though he couldn’t really deny he kind of liked having Sam around for his every whim.

“Not going anywhere.” He informed the younger boy when Sam told him to stay put. Even if the floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, Dean wasn’t ready to try to get up yet. He hurt like a bitch from the obvious pulling of his side when he’d been thrashing around in the nightmare. When Sam returned and started tending to the wound though, Dean did his best not to flinch, not wanting to worry the other boy even more.

Dean snorted a little at the humpty-dumpty remark. Sam better not start calling him that or he might have to seriously noogie the younger boy. He thought a moment about Sam’s offer to get his father to help him up, then shook his head.

“I think I can get up. It could be worse.” Dean replied as he started to push himself up a little. It was time he started doing things for himself again.

Sam saw the determined set of Dean's jaw and the way Dean steeled himself as he started to move and knew Dean wouldn't stop until he had either hurt himself or made it onto the bed. Dean was so freaking stubborn.

"Don't push too hard, You side is bleeding," Sam cautioned as he gripped Dean's arm and, watching him closely, helped pull Dean up enough to be able to sit on the bed.

He could see in the senior's eyes that he was still badly shaken by his nightmare. Since Dean had another nightmare, Sam didn't figure his mother would complain about him sleeping with Dean again. If he could get Dean to wear the dream bag, he was certain it would help.

Once Dean was sitting on the bed, Sam helped Dean slowly scoot back so he was sitting up, leaning against the cushions. After pulling up a blanket to cover Dean, he quickly retrieved a damp cloth from the bathroom and began wiping Dean's sweat-coated face down. "And I thought I had impressive nightmares. I don't usually end up on the floor anymore, though I can remember hiding under the bed after a couple of mine when I was younger. Mom would have to coax me out." He leaned in and planted a light kiss on Dean's lips. "You want to talk about it?" Sam asked quietly. "The therapist always said it was helpful to talk about them, even if you only remembered a little bit. Took a long time but she finally got me over some of my worst fears in the real world and that's helped keep the nightmares away. Mostly."

Dean rolled his eyes a little at Sam’s concerned words. Not that he didn’t appreciate the concern, it was just he was tired of being an invalid. He needed to start fending for himself again.

Still, he didn’t argue against Sam’s help getting him back into bed. Dean was actually glad that Sam was still here. He didn’t really want to admit just how much that dream had shaken him, but unfortunately it was pretty obvious. Considering he’d ended up on the floor… how fucking embarrassing. He was a hunter, god damn it, not some scared little kid in the dark.

When Sam mentioned it, Dean tried not to blush but he knew he wasn’t successful. Well, at least he hadn’t ended up under the bed. Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at Sam in the face again if that had happened. It was hard enough now.

Though Dean certainly felt sympathy for the little boy Sam had been, hiding under his bed in fear until his mother coaxed him out. Dean wasn’t sure he could admit to Sam that he had done similar things as a child. How he had hid under beds, in corners, inside closets, shaking in fear through the night, and refusing to come out in the morning. Kicking, screaming, and biting when first doctors and then later various foster parents finally lost patience and tried to drag him out.

Those were the ‘good’ nights. The bad nights he’d wake them up screaming bloody murder all through the night until they finally got fed up. In the beginning they just sent him back to the orphanage or off to another foster home. As he grew up others tried drugging him, or even gagging him to keep him quiet. He’d been yelled at for his nightmares. He’d been beaten. His last foster home… well, the husband had his own methods.

Dean hadn’t even realized he’d become lost in memories until he felt the soft kiss Sam pressed to his lips. He offered Sam a thankful smile, but shook his head at the younger boy’s offer. The last thing Dean wanted to do right now was talk about it, even with someone who understood better than most, he still couldn’t tell Sam everything. He didn’t even want to.

“No, I’m ok. Don’t worry. Thanks though. What’s for breakfast?” Dean finally asked, changing the subject.

Sam could still see the sheen of sweat on Dean and his pupils were the size of saucers from the adrenaline. Sam ran his fingers soothingly through Dean's sweat soaked hair, but was glad to see Dean had stopped trembling.

"Hah," Sam snorted softly. "You don't have to be all macho for me, you know, but whenever you're ready to talk about it…I'll listen. And I know you don't think so, but I think you're doing a great job of protecting me from Eric. He's not going to 'take me,' not with you watching my back. I know it's gotten off to a rocky start, but we're both learning what that sneaky bastard's capable of. It's just been a sharp learning curve. And I have to learn to watch your back too." He kissed Dean again, this time a bit more forcefully, letting his tongue dart into Dean's mouth, but not letting it last. He could see Dean's disappointment when he pulled back.

"Mom and Dad might come check on you anytime right now," Sam told him. "And that would just be awkward."

He really did want to spend more time kissing Dean, hoping it would soothe and reassure the teen he now thought of as his boyfriend. Dean was so damned handsome, he still couldn't get what Dean saw in him. He didn't think Dean would be as caring acting as he was if Dean was just hoping for some tail. Then again, Eric had been just as nice and friendly to him. But after the way Eric acted when Sam turned him down, and the things he had said to him, Eric was just a class A creep. Dean was anything but.

He finally remembered Dean's question. He had told him once, but Dean was still in the aftermath of his nightmare so he wasn't surprised Dean didn't remember. "We're having waffles for breakfast. We have some blueberries to put on them if you'd like. Are you ready to eat? I was going to see if you wanted to try to come out to the table, but I bet you're too sore now, huh?"

Dean couldn’t deny he enjoyed the feeling of Sam’s fingers running through his hair, even though he knew it had to be pretty gross at this point. Being all sweaty and Dean hadn’t taken a shower for a couple of days at this point. Yup, pretty damn gross. The younger boy didn’t seem to mind so much at least, but Dean decided he really needed a shower at this point. Before he really started to reek.

He wanted to give Sam a smile when the younger boy went on to reassure him that he thought Dean was doing a good job of protecting him from Eric. That he knew Dean wouldn’t let Eric take him… He wanted to, but he couldn’t even force one to his lips.

First of all, it was a lie. The only thing Dean had done was get himself put in the hospital twice. Dean could walk away from fight against a black dog with only a knife without a scratch but that fucking bastard had managed to put him in the hospital. He was stupid and he was sloppy and there was no fucking excuse for it. If he didn’t get his head out of his ass, then next it would be Sam in the hospital or worse…

Second… it wasn’t even the thought of Eric getting his hands on Sam that had caused his recent little panic attack. God… he hoped it was nothing. Just a combination of the nightmares he’d had all his life and worry over Sam’s well being. He hoped… Fuck, he wished Bobby was here. Then he could at least talk to someone about what he’d seen in his dream without being told he was fucking nuts. Well… Sam probably wouldn’t call him fucking nuts, but he didn’t want to scare the poor boy either. Especially if it was nothing…

Sam kissing him again took him a little bit off guard, but Dean quickly returned the kiss, a small sound of complaint escaping his lips when they parted. Over too damned quick in his opinion but he knew Sam was right. Definitely not a good idea.

“Yeah, awkward.” Dean agreed, even though he thought it was an understatement of the century. Waffles. Right, Sam had mentioned that before, hadn’t he? Waffles sounded pretty damned good right now.

“Yeah, I’m hungry.” The older boy replied with a nod. Though when Sam mentioned at the possibility of him eating at the table, he was torn. While he didn’t want to be treated like an invalid anymore, he also didn’t really want to do the whole breakfast with the family thing. He wasn’t sure he could deal with it on the heels of that nightmare.

“I’ll eat here.” Dean finally answered. Of course Sam could eat with his parents if he wanted to. “I think I’ll need a shower after breakfast.”