West Coast

Chapter Nine

Cas bolted upright in bed, desperately fighting for breath. In the week following his visit to the ward, he had been plagued with nightmares, most of which he hardly remembered when he woke. This time it had been particularly vivid, and he dreamed he was back in his hospital bed, still hooked up to a ventilator.

Dean jolted awake and looked at him blearily. 'Cas?' he mumbled.

'Can't - breathe -' Cas gasped. He just couldn't seem to take in enough air.

'Hey, hey,' Dean said softly, reaching over and gently rubbing his chest. 'It was just a dream.' But Cas continued to struggle, so Dean sat up properly to help him. He placed a firm hand on Cas's chest, and the other on his back, then pushed him gently forwards so he was leaning on Dean's hand. 'I've got you,' he said. 'Just breathe... that's it.' It worked as he had hoped, slowing Cas's breathing to a regular rate. 'That was a tough one, huh,' he said sympathetically.

Cas leaned back against his pillows, his hands clasped together to stop them shaking. 'Were they this bad before?' he asked.

'Sometimes.'

'Did anything make them go away?'

'Not really.'

Cas sighed. 'Great.'

Dean glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost time to get up, but Cas was already sinking back into the bed, so Dean tucked the blanket around him and carefully extricated himself from the bed.

Cas slept lightly but comfortably for the next few hours, until the sun was up. He felt the warmth on his face, but it was the smell of cooking that awakened him fully.

Dean came into the bedroom with a tray.

'Breakfast in bed?' Cas smiled, sitting up properly. 'What have I done to deserve this?'

'Nothing, just felt like a breakfast in bed kinda morning,' Dean said brightly. He sat opposite Cas on the bed and shared the eggs and bacon with him.

Cas ate quietly, glancing at Dean every so often. He couldn't help but notice the bags under Dean's eyes, and that he was staring intently into his coffee. 'Are you all right, Dean?' he asked. 'Are you sleeping well?'

Dean looked up. 'Of course I am.'

'But?'

Dean chuckled. 'But I wanted to talk to you about something.'

'Okay.'

Dean swallowed another mouthful of eggs before speaking again. 'I was asking round the village,' he said slowly, 'but no one's seen you.'

Cas bit his lip. He hadn't been able to work up the courage to venture past their long driveway.

'What are you scared of?' Dean asked.

'I - uh - I'm afraid of getting lost,' Cas confessed, 'or having a seizure in the road, or somewhere no one can see me.'

Dean nodded. 'I get it, I can see why that's scary.'

'It is rather daunting, yes. Sorry.'

'No, it's my fault, I should have thought about it,' Dean said, sipping his coffee. 'All right, a suggestion then.'

'Go on.'

'I have the afternoon off, so why don't I take you for a walk and show you around?'

Cas smiled. 'That sounds good.'

'Okay then. I gotta go, but I'll see you later.' Dean got up and left Cas the remainder of their breakfast.

Cas still didn't know which clothes were his and which were Dean's, and usually just reached into the wardrobe for anything that fit. That afternoon was the same, and Cas pulled out a green jacket while he was waiting for Dean.