Dean was well acquainted with the concept of dreaming. His entire life had been awash with nightmares about every sequential trauma he'd experienced. The few rare good dreams he managed were always the same. A summer at Bobby's or a normal life with Sam and Dad.

That's why this dream was so foreign to him. Dean was standing next to Cas in the bunker library. Nothing else.

He kept waiting for whatever terrible thing that was going to happen, but it never came. And so he was just standing, watching Cas read a book.

Dean had already tried talking to him, but it was clear in this dream, Cas couldn't see or hear him. So he kept quiet, trying to make sense of it all.

It was almost fifteen minutes before he became aware of the sensations.

Dean had sunk down into a chair at the table next to Cas. It happened slowly, but once he noticed it he couldn't ignore it if he tried. He could feel the pages under his hand when Cas flipped through them. He couldn't see what Cas saw, or read his thoughts, but he could feel the subtle shifts in emotions as he read through each page. They mixed in with the surprise and confusion of his own.

But the thing that really threw him, Dean could feel Castiel's wings.

On the surface, the angel was almost entirely still. But the fidgeting that wasn't shown was reflected through the wings behind him. He could feel every twitch and shift in the limbs, a strange sensation running down their length at the movement.

Dean tried to make sense of what he was feeling. A wave of, what was that, boredom? He watched Cas push the book shut, felt him shake out the feathers behind him.

The world snapped away in an instant and Dean found himself sprawled out on his bed where he had flopped down earlier that night. He reached towards the noise that had woken him and answered the phone.

Dean didn't bring it up when he woke Sam to get ready to back up Donna. He dismissed the dream and before too long, forgot about it entirely.

.

When they stopped to sleep that evening, Dean found himself once more fading into the bunker, watching Cas read yet again. There was something about it. If Dean concentrated he could really feel every little twitch, every tiny movement.

He wandered a little bit, not wanting to stray too far, but trying to get a gauge for what else could be around them. This was two nights in a row, and he couldn't figure out why.

Was this going to take a place in the rotation of recurring dreams he had?

Except it was weird that it was different tonight. Cas stood and paused a moment before starting to walk from the room.

Dean turned and walked after him, finding them just sort of aimlessly walking the bunker. Down to the dungeon, over to the shooting range, then back up to storage. He watched Cas enter one of the dusty back rooms and leaf through some of the texts that Sam hadn't yet gotten to cataloguing. He grabbed a new tome and headed with it into the kitchen.

Cas ended up settling in there to read this time, and Dean frowned.

This dream is so strange...

He sighed.

...And boring.

Two hours later Sam woke him up.

.

A lucky break in the case allowed them to clear the nest that night. Three in the morning and the brothers dragged themselves back into the motel room, needing to sleep before they headed back to the bunker. Dean let Sam have the first shower out of pity for the full body of drying vamp blood he wore.

Sam was already passed out when Dean came out of the shower, and he sank down on his own bed, happily following suit.

The feeling was instant this time. It was like the second he felt himself sink into sleep he was standing beside Cas again. And he could feel everything.

Cas was standing in the library, expression pensive, absolutely still. Well, absolutely still except his wings. Cas straightened up, turning and walking through the map room to the door. Dean followed on instinct, willing to explore this dream again.

Three times in a row. That was something that had never happened with any dreams but his worst.

Cas began his way up the railing and Dean frowned. He couldn't see them, but where he felt Cas' wings, they would be going right through the railing, but he didn't feel that happening.

His wings aren't in this dimension. He mused. Interesting... Weird. But Interesting.

He slipped out before Cas had a chance to close the door. He wasn't sure how this worked, but he didn't want to risk getting shut behind.

Cas walked from the bunker, heading towards the woods surrounding the bunker's surface structures. Dean acknowledged the cold, but couldn't feel it persay. It was a sort of half feeling, and it was hard to process. It was like Cas knew the sensation, but it just didn't affect him the same way it would him.

"Where are you going?" Dean muttered, not surprised when again, Cas didn't acknowledge him.

As they walked along in the moonlight, a new feeling came over him.

Contentment.

Dean watched Cas' expression carefully, knowing what feeling was reflected in it. He had always wondered what Cas did when they were away or asleep. He sort of always figured he just sort of sat still in a chair somewhere. That whole I have lived for millennia, hours are not a struggle to sit through thing.

He hoped that the real Cas, at least sometimes, did something for his own pleasure.

Dean hadn't ever been out this way. He knew Sam said he ran some sort of path back there in the mornings sometimes. He hadn't ever walked it himself though. "I'm glad even in my weird dreams you can't fly. I think this would be awful if you were zipping around all over the place."

He followed the angel to a clearing overlooking a small lake. When Cas sat, he settled onto the grass beside him.

Castiel simply looked up, taking in the stars.

Dean followed his gaze, letting out a long breath and allowing his shoulders to drop.

The hunter leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of his knees, letting his mind turn over what was happening.

This didn't feel like any dream he had ever had before. It felt so… real. And he really felt himself relax fully. He could imagine himself here. He could imagine feeling what Cas felt.

He didn't want the dream to end. If every dream was as peaceful as this one...

Both men heard the snap of a branch in the woods and turned their attention to it immediately. He supposed purgatory had made them both extra sensitive to any sound in the night as they were on their feet in a second.

This is more like it. Dean thought bitterly, his heart sinking as he prepared to face however this dream would go wrong.

The three demons strolled into the small field beside them, vessels still in construction worker's clothes. They looked wildly out of place in the middle of the woods. "Castiel." One leveled.

Cas had his blade out in a second. Dean felt the cool weight in his hand. He wished he had one of his own, but then again, the demons didn't seem to acknowledge him either.

Dean felt Cas' heightened concern layered over his own and found it a wonder he could tell the difference between them.

"How did you find me?"

"Been tailing you since that motel in Iowa. We were waiting for you to come out to play."

Cas tightened his grip. "What do you want."

"Got a boss looking to take a stab at the throne. We're just shooting the guard dog so we can get at the grand Winchester prize." The demon shook his head, feigning sympathy. "You know how it is."

Cas waited until the demons made a move to enter the fray.

Dean tried to dive in, willing himself as hard as he could to be able to grab one of the attackers, but his hands pushed right through them. He was forced to step back and simply watch how this fight ended up, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. He tried to brace himself.

If it was anything like other nightmares, he was about to watch Castiel die.

He felt Cas' wings raise outward, and for a second he could forget the fight. He felt the sensations as Cas dodged each slice of the angel blades they used against them, using the weight of his wings to counterbalance him somehow, helping him move faster and with more precision than Dean had ever noticed in a fight. He supposed whenever they fought together, he was in the middle of the madness himself.

Dean's attention snapped back to the fight as he felt the knife sink into his abdomen. He gasped as the pain was quickly compounded by the drag of a blade across his back. He stumbled almost at the same time Cas fell sideways, his arm up to block a more fatal blow.

The hunter felt his head swim, the demons gaining a fair amount of ground. He could feel the dizziness that came with blood loss, feel Cas' body strain to try to gather his grace, healing slowed to a crawl by the nature of the weapon causing the wounds.

Dean watched with relief as Cas managed to fell two in a row, leaving only the one to deal with.

The hunter sank to his knees, the pain across his body overwhelming, but Cas pushed through it, ignoring the blade sinking through his shoulder to take an opportunity to kill the last.

The angel only managed to keep himself halfway upright for a second before he stumbled and fell to the ground. He coughed, blood running down his chin, getting lost in the blood already soaking through his clothes. He sank sideways, having no choice but to lay back, his unfocused eyes, searching skyward for something to ground him, struggling to hold onto consciousness.

Dean fought against the nausea, trying to get up, get to him. "Cas!" He felt the word even more strongly than he said it, feeling the unrelenting pain and growing weakness.

Cas furrowed his brow as he blearily looked at the empty forest around him. "Dean?" he whispered.

Dean didn't notice. Instead he closed his eyes, willing himself to wake, clawing his way back into consciousness.

He shot out of bed like he had been electrocuted. Sam turned groggily towards the sound of Dean running into the nightstand.

"Dean?"

"Cas is hurt." Dean blurted out, trying to get his bearings.

Sam squinted up at him, reaching over and turning on the table lamp. "He called?"

Dean swallowed, whipping around to face Sam. "No… I just-"

The younger hunter took a moment to study Dean, watching the slight shake in his hands, noting how pale he was. "Dean-"

"I know he's hurt." Dean repeated firmly. He felt it… this wasn't a dream… was it? It felt too real…

"You had a nightmare." Sam tried to reassure him.

"No." Dean snapped, moving and grabbing his jeans from where he tossed them, tugging them on as quickly as he could. "I wasn't dreaming."

"Dean."

"I'm leaving in two minutes Sam, you're ready or I'm leaving you."

Sam scrambled out from under the covers, hurrying to follow his brother in his almost frantic scramble to grab their stuff and get out. He watched Dean the entire way towards the bunker, the impala racing over the flat Kansas highways. He had tried twice to reassure Dean, that it was alright, that he had just been dreaming.

The younger hunter had to admit it had him worried. Dean had his fair share of realistic dreams. Flashbacks. Ever since hell he'd wake every so often, sure he was still in the pit. Only now it sometimes took the form of purgatory. It always took a few minutes for him to reorient himself, realize he was safe at the bunker or wherever they had bed down for the night.

Sam had never seen him not realize it was a dream. Never seen him this unravelled by it.

He pressed for details, but Dean wouldn't say anything besides muttering something about how it wasn't a dream. Sam decided on waiting it out, knowing he didn't really have another option. He resigned himself to waiting for his brother to see for himself that the angel was okay.

Dean had barely put the car in park before he was out of the car, running past the bunker door, starting down the trail he remembered following Cas down.

It looked exactly like it had in the dream… No. Not a dream.

Sam was right behind him, his eyes on the ground, watching his step as they made their way as fast as they could through the poorly travelled path. He froze when they came to the edge of the clearing by the lake and he could see the body laid out in the moonlight.

Dean didn't break stride, running to Cas' side, kneeling beside him and putting his hand out onto his chest, relieved to see the angel breathing.

Castiel's eyes shot open, looking around wildly before finally landing on the hunter's face. "Dean?"

"Hey, shit." Dean breathed, pulling a bandana out of his pocket and pressing down on the worst of the wounds, through Cas' stomach. He winced when Cas hissed in pain. "Sorry."

Sam walked over, offering his arm. "Let's get him back inside." He pressed.

Dean nodded, slipping his own arms under Cas, helping him to his feet. They took on the bulk of his weight as they made their way back through the woods to the safety of the bunker.

The process was excruciatingly slow going, and by the time they managed to lean Cas back against one of the infirmary beds, Cas was just on the cusp of unconsciousness again.

Dean wasted no time grabbing what he needed to start attending to Cas' injuries, leaving Sam to step back and watch.

Cas cracked open his eyes, looking up at Sam while Dean was busy. "How did you know to look for me?" His voice was rough and ended with a cough.

"Dean just knew." Sam said, his tone disbelieving. "He like, woke up and just… went."

Cas turned to look up at Dean as the older hunter returned to his side, pushing back his shirt to begin to work.

"I don't know, man." Dean muttered, wiping away some of the blood, knowing the wounds were healing slow enough Cas needed stitches. If he were human he'd have bled out long ago. "I was dreaming or something, And I…" He slid the needle through Cas' skin, beginning to suture the largest of the cuts first. "I saw you get jumped."

Cas fell back against the bed, unable to hold up his head any longer. He sighed, a feeling of safety returning to him now that he had been found. "That is very fortunate." He said absently.

Dean let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, no kidding."

They fell silent, the angel focusing on the slight sting of the needle being pulled through his skin, grateful he was still there to feel it.

Forty stitches later and Cas managed to pull himself up to sit leaned back against the metal headboard.

Dean cleaned himself up before sinking down into one of the chairs in the room.

Sam crossed his arms. "So. What the hell was that about?"

"Three demons followed me from the last motel we stayed at. They wanted to kill you to impress a demon they worked for."

"Great." Sam muttered. "Sorry Cas."

"It is fine." Cas dismissed.

Sam shook his head. "And you seeing it in a dream?" Sam asked, directing his stare at Dean.

Dean shook his head. "Beats me. I was just… I fell asleep and then I was here." He looked at Cas. "I just sort of followed you out of the bunker and to that lake." He admitted. "I didn't know if it was real…"

"Was that the first time it happened?" Sam pressed.

"Last two nights too." He kept his eye on Cas. "Except you were just in the bunker those times."

Cas nodded slowly, mind turning over that information. He had no idea what could be causing that.

Sam shifted in his seat slightly. "You said you were just following him. Like astral projection?"

Dean shrugged. "I guess?" He nodded. "Yeah, sort of like that time Pamela had us in that trance to find the reapers. Except…"

"Except?"

The older hunter fidgeted slightly. "It was like I could feel what he was feeling." He shifted his glance from Sam back to Cas. "I could feel you uh… get hurt and like… I don't know. Emotions?"

"You could read his mind?"

"No just… feel things." He finished lamely. "I don't know how to describe it."

Sam pulled himself to his feet. "I'll uh, hit the books I guess."

"Sam, get some sleep first." Dean said with a sigh. "You got like an hour."

"You did too."

Dean leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, well."

"You should sleep too." Sam continued, but he resigned himself to obeying Dean's wish, feeling the exhaustion start to creep in as the adrenaline fully cleared his system.

"Whatever."

Sam rolled his eyes, taking his leave.

Dean slumped back against the chair back. "You scared me man, thought you were done for."

Cas didn't want to point out that without his help, he might have been. He let out his breath, leaning his head against the frame behind him. "I don't know what could be causing these dreams of yours."

"Well whatever it is… it has good timing."

.

By the fourth time Dean was no longer surprised when he found himself next to Cas. This time was weird though. He had fallen asleep at the infirmary table after attempting to rest his eyes for a second. Misjudged that a bit…

Now he was standing in a room beside Cas while also being able to look up at himself. He felt the dull aches settled deep into his chest and abdomen, a nod to the still healing injuries the angel bore.

Cas pulled himself up off the bed, ignoring the spark of pain Dean felt when he stood. He moved to the hunter's side, slipping his arm around him and pulling him up, carrying him over to one of the infirmary beds.

Dean shivered, feeling incredibly weird watching the scene unfold. He could feel the sensation of Cas lifting his body, but not his own. This wasn't the first time he suspected Cas had moved him from wherever he ended up passed out, but usually it was whiskey that caused him to sleep so deeply. This time was just from overexertion.

"You should save your energy for healing." Dean muttered.

Cas finished settling Dean onto his side on the bed before returning to his own, sinking down a little less gracefully than usual. Dean let the second hand exhaustion wash over him.

Castiel looked up, his eyes sort of flitting around the room. "Dean, I don't know if you're here."

"God, you sound like some phony psychic." He rolled his eyes. "Is there anyone with us this evening?" He mocked.

"I suppose if it is still happening there is no way to know." Cas mused softly. He didn't mention how strange it was to be talking to more or less nothing. "If you aren't, I will repeat the sentiment when you wake, but I didn't say thank you." he continued. "For hurrying back to find me."

Dean sighed. He sank down to sit next to himself on the bed opposite Cas. "This is getting old real fast."

Cas settled back and gave a small smile. "I imagine this is what it must be like when you pray to me. Normally it's me who can hear you but not respond."

The hunter frowned. Prayer. What if he-?

"Cas?"

Cas' eyes widened, and he looked around the seemingly empty room. "Dean?"

"Holy shit, that worked."

"You can just pray to me." the angel followed.

"Oh thank god, this was driving me crazy."

Cas was quiet for a moment. "This is… very strange."

"You're telling me." Dean looked back down. "I'm sitting next to myself on a bed."

The hunter paused for a moment, feeling the flood of warmth that settled in his chest. Dean tried to place the emotion, hesitant to assign a word to it.

"With such back and forth, it feels a little like communicating with the angels used to."

"Like angel radio?"

"Except in english."

Dean thought about it. He didn't really think about it but angels probably only communicated with enochian or whatever other wavelength nonsense they had going for them. "Yeah, and also I'm not a raging douchebag." He hesitated, a smirk crossing his face. "Most of the time at least."

Cas gave a soft chuckle and the warmth in his chest strengthened.

"I can feel your emotions." Dean continued, his prayer soft as he tried to focus on the sensations.

The warmth quickly was replaced with a more startled feeling before quickly being more or less buried and suppressed. Dean blinked a few times, surprised by the rapid shift in mood.

But Cas didn't seem upset… apprehensive maybe. "Can you hear my thoughts as well?" He asked, curious.

"No… just feelings. And not just emotional, physical too." Dean hesitated. "I can feel your wings."

Cas let a small smile work back into his expression. "That must be strange for you."

"This whole thing is crazy. But yeah. I didn't realize they were so… there all the time."

"Most of the time I don't really notice them. They've been a part of me for so long."

"Well, for all the stillness you have on the outside, you're constantly moving those wings."

Cas flexed them up and back, letting them sort of stretch out before settling back down against his shoulders. Dean shivered slightly, the sensation almost awe inspiring. The angel looked over where Dean lay, not knowing exactly where the hunter was other than near his own body. "Can you see them?"

"No."

Cas nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should begin research." He slowly started to push himself back off the bed.

"Cas, you should let yourself rest."

"I do not require sleep."

"You don't have to be up and moving either."

"What do you suggest I do?"

Dean thought for a moment. "I don't know. Movie night?"

Cas tilted his head.

"I mean it's not exactly like I could pick up a book anyway... Come on, man. The last thing I want is to spend all night just watching you read."

The angel hesitated. "Alright." He finally relented.

The hunter broke into a wide unseen grin. "Good. Come on, my laptop is in my room." He waited patiently as Cas moved carefully to avoid aggravating his wounds. He was grateful since he too felt the pains.

He settled down onto his bed next to Cas, watching him open his lap top and with a little instruction navigate to the browser. He watched Cas consider the different streaming options on the landing page.

"I've got a Corbucci film I think you're going to love." Dean frowned however, feeling an emotion cross Cas' chest he didn't fully understand. But coupled with the small uncharacteristic smirk, he wasn't sure he liked where it was going.

Cas didn't follow Dean's instructions. Instead Dean watched Cas begin to browse through titles seemingly more or less at random. "What are you doing?"

"I believe it is my turn to pick."

"That's not how this works."

"It would appear you have little choice in the matter."

"That's not fair." He furrowed his brow, watching Cas click on some animated kid's movie. "Hold up, wait a second, stop."

Cas however had already settled back.

Dean tried to put his hands on the computer, tried to will himself to interact with it as he once did when astral projecting, but he had no luck. "Really?"

"Yes." Cas said simply.

Dean sank back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest and grumbling out loud where Cas couldn't hear him. He tried to sort out his own dismay from Cas' satisfaction.

Reluctantly, with nothing else to do, he resigned himself to watching Finding Nemo.

And when he cried, he blamed those emotions on Cas too. Whether or not it was accurate.