Theo/Clyde

He could see himself across the room fighting one of the masked guys. Who they were, Sam had no idea and he doubted he’d find out. Dean was closer, but still a significant distance away that even if Sam could control his body at the moment, he wouldn’t be able to reach him.

Then the atmosphere dropped along with the temperature, or so it felt. Something was wrong, Sam could feel it. Dean suddenly charged at the man in front of him, and Sam knew exactly what was about to happen. The rusted nail sticking out of the post behind Dean looked scarier than it had moments before.

The masked man grabbed ahold of Dean and charged forward. Sam screamed, begged, and tried to force himself awake but nothing was working. He was going to have to watch his brother die. His stomach dropped as Deans back touched the metal but before it could impale him, Sam was snapping his eyes opened.

Sam stared at the ceiling for half a second before sitting up and looking off to his side where Dean slept.

“Rise and Shine, Sammy!” Dean, a younger, happier, more relaxed person than the dream version, was tying his boots on the bed.

Sam choked back a sob as he realized that, that was such a Dean thing to do. His vision blurred as he stared at Deans figure. That dream/vision, because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to call it yet, was different from all the others he’d had. Somehow, this one felt more final.

Strong hands on his arms brought him out of his thoughts and he realized he was crying so hard that he couldn’t breathe.

“…eathe! Breathe, Sammy, you gotta breathe! There you go, that’s it. You’re doing good. In and out, do it with me.” Deans voice cut through his muddled thoughts, grounding him. He followed his brothers exaggerated breathing. In…out…in…out.

“That’s my boy.” Dean murmured softly as his gently rubbed his brothers arms. He doesn’t know what caused his little brother to go into such a horrible state, but Dean would be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to help.

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean was crouching in front of him, Sam noticed. Their eyes met and Dean smiled, “Hey there, Sammy.”

“Dean?” Sam asked, voice small and trembling.

“I’m right here, Sammy. I’m right here.” Dean got up from his crouched position and sat down next to his brother, pulling his brothers head into his chest and rubbing his back. “Wanna talk about whatever’s going on here?”

Sam shook his head vehemently, planning on forgetting that dream ever existed.

“I’m not one of those voodoo mind readers, Sam, you gotta talk to me.” Deans voice was concerned but Sam knew he was trying to lighten the mood. The least he could do was try, he supposed.

“I don’t know if it was… if it was a vision or just a dream but you… it felt so final, Dean.” Sam sat up and scrubbed the tears off of his face. “You… you were going to die and I thought I was going to have to watch you.”

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I would die.”

Sam frowned before shaking his head, “I just knew. I could feel it. It was like I was actually there except I could see myself across the room and I was fighting some masked dude so I didn’t see you but from where I was, I knew the nail was going to impale you. It looked so…” Sam swallowed as he ran out of words.

“It’s probably nothin’, Sammy.” Dean got up and ruffled his hair, which made Sam roll his eyes and swat Deans hand away. “Besides, we got a job to do right now.”

“But, Dean…” Sam trailed off, unsure of what to say. “I can’t lose you.” He eventually whispered.

“And you won’t. Sammy, look at me.” Sam looked up. “I’m perfectly fine! Not a scratch on me. By the time we’re done with this job, you’re gonna be so sick of me you’ll wish that dream was real.” Dean smirked.

“Besides! No dumb little nail is gonna send me to my grave. Have more faith in me, Sam.” Dean placed a hand over his heart, faking a hurt expression.

Sam rolled his eyes, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ah, there he is! I thought I lost my little Sammy for a second. Was about to put you to the test.” Dean said with a smile. “Now come on, you giant beast, let’s get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!”

They moved on as they normally did and if Sam stayed closer to Dean than what they were both used to, Dean wasn’t going to say anything.

“Damn, your eyes.” Dean whispered as he stared into Cas’ eyes. Those blue eyes stared back at him as Cas tilted his head a little, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What about my eyes?” If it weren’t for the fact that his eyes were in his head, Cas would have likely tried to look at them to determine what was wrong. As it was, he couldn’t and Dean continued to stare, unable to form the correct words on his tongue.

“Beautiful.” Was the word that finally left Deans lips, inelegant and awkward, but so utterly sincere that there was no room for doubt in Cas’ mind.

“You think my eyes are beautiful?” The confusion never left Cas’ face, if anything it seemed to get worse. Cas couldn’t understand what Dean saw in his eyes that made them so beautiful.

Dean nodded, but then shook his head, frowning as if he didn’t understand what he was trying to say, and he didn’t. “You are beautiful.” He settled on those words, hoping to convey to Cas what his voice couldn’t say.

Cas smiled, “Thank you, Dean.” But it wasn’t enough for Dean. He needed more, needed Cas to understand just how beautiful he truly was.

“I think… I can love you.” The words were quiet, almost too quiet, and Dean cringed away on instinct, not wanting to see whether Cas would react horribly to those words or not.

“Dean…” Cas spoke softly, raising a hand and resting it on Dean’s cheek, caressing his thumb back and forth. Tears had gathered in his eyes and were now freely flowing down his cheeks. “I love you too.”

Deans eyes snapped open in shock, unable to comprehend the positive reaction he’d received. Eventually, his eyes began to water, emotions he’d locked away finally breaking to the surface.

“Cas.” He whimpered, his lip wobbling as he pulled the Angel, his Angel, into a strong embrace. He wouldn’t let go, couldn’t after finally admitting what he was so terrified of for so long.

“Together?” Dean asked, voice hoarse from trying to hold in his sobs.

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