Outside These Walls [Destiel]

Chapter 6

Dean could tell that Castiel hadn't really slept that night, the tensing of the man against his chest as he struggled against the nightmares that so obviously plagued him. He had awoken several times throughout the night, gasping for air and clawing at the thin, scratchy sheets of the old and lumpy mattress underneath them before Dean managed to calm him down with a warm hand on the lower part of his back, pressing gently and easing him back into some form of normal breathing.

"It's okay," Dean whispered, glancing around to make sure that they did not wake the other soldiers. Friendly or not, there was something that Dean did not trust about them. Call it Winchester's intuition, but they made his skin crawl, especially now that he laid vulnerable with his back to them in order to keep Castiel safe.

"I can't breathe," Castiel whispered as he turned in the bed, his breath just barely managing to carry his voice longer than the second word as his fingers worked deftly against the uniform, tugging and pulling in an attempt to release the not-so-tight bond from around his neck. Dean shushed him softly, reaching up and sliding his hands under Castiel's, ignoring the man's flinch as he worked the uniform loose, revealing part of the undershirt that rested against his collarbones.

"In through the nose," Dean urged softly, not even giving it a second thought as he rested his hand on Castiel's chest just gently, a sharp intake of breath pushing out his chest with the surprise of the touch. Still, it was like a soft guide, his fingers rising up and down with each breath, and a bit of color came back to Castiel's face as he continued to breathe, easing Dean's own feelings of worry and even bringing out a small smile from him.

"You feel better now?" Dean asked softly, and Castiel nodded, pressing his lips in distress before he reached up with shaking hands, working the bandage loose and letting it fall off his eyes, blue even in the darkness as he took in another deep breath, clutching a little tighter to the cloth.

"It feels cooler now," Castiel whispered, bundling the cloth against his chest and pushing himself back against Dean again, his eyes not closing as his gaze found nothing, blank but not empty. Dean found himself propping himself up, gazing down at the profile of the man's face and finding himself enraptured by the way his whole persona seemed to change with just one little bandage.

"Are your wounds healing?" Dean asked softly, gaining Castiel's attention as the man turned to look in his general direction. The cuts around his eyes were beginning to close, and Dean couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as he let his fingers graze around them - not touching them - and found that there was no unnatural heat.

Castiel had a troubled look on his face, and Dean's stomach seemed to sink in his stomach, "Dean? What happens if the guards do to us what they did to the other soldier?" Castiel asked softly, nothing but the sound of resignation in his voice, as if he were already accepting the hard and cold truth.

Dean frowned, but shook his head, lying back down and pulling Castiel back into their original position, only with one of Dean's legs hanging off the edge of the bed, but he didn't really mind, "They won't do anything to you, not while I'm here," Dean whispered, feeling Castiel's thrumming heart against his chest and hugging him a bit tighter, closing his eyes and focusing only on the feeling that pressed against him.

"Dean, you can't keep facing things by yourself. I can take ca-"