Habits

Chapter 1

After making himself as comfortable as possible on the disgusting lump that used to be a couch, in the abandoned house of the week, Dean cracked open Dad's journal with the hope that rereading it for the thousandth time would make him bored enough to fall asleep. He'd been up late the past few nights, and now that they didn't have any pressing research he found that he didn't even feel tired, though it was already at least 1 in the morning.

A quiet voice sounded from in front of him right as he was starting on the wendigo page.

"Dean?" Castiel was staring at him like usual, but his hands were playing with the long sleeves on his trenchcoat. It was a habit Dean was sure the angel didn't know he had, but he would never tell Cas about it. It was one of the many signs that he was becoming more and more human, both physically and mentally.

"Hey Cas, what's up? I thought you went to sleep over an hour ago." Dean saw the near timidness in Cas and closed the journal, worried now.

The angel looked down at his body with a frustrated glare. "I'm finding it difficult to rest. I can feel how tired my vessel is, but I cannot fall asleep. I cannot keep myself from thinking."

Dean chuckled, "Can't turn your brain off huh?"

Slowly Cas nodded, "That is a surprisingly good metaphor for the situation."

Sighing, Dean tossed the book toward his bag and stood up. "Alright Cas, I'm gonna teach you the Winchester trick of getting some shut eye when you have to sleep on a floor. First, take off your jacket."

"I do not understand the point in removing a layer of clothing." Cas protested. But even as he argued he was pulling his arms out of the sleeves and folding the jacket over his arm.

Dean shook his head and led Cas over to his chosen sleeping area, careful not to step on Sam's unconscious form along the way. "Just trust me okay?"

Again, he was given a solemn nod. Dean shook off the intense stare he was getting and moved on to step two.

"Now when you lay down, use the coat as a blanket. Yeah, I know it won't keep you especially warm, but it's always worked for us. If you asked Sammy about it, he'd probably give you an earful about psychology. He has to do this all the time. When he was younger, he actually used to use my jacket instead. Still does sometimes. He once told me it helped more than his own."

For a brief second Dean wondered why he was telling someone something so private, but then a voice in his head explained. Because it's Cas. It's not like he would tell anyone. When he looked at Cas again, his eyes were fixed on Dean's jacket, practically envious, as though it held magical sleeping powers that Dean was refusing to share.

Cas held his jacket out to Dean, and it took a moment for Dean to understand. He was going to make a joke about needing tucked in, but stopped when he saw the circle's under Cas' eyes. The poor guy looked exhausted; who knew how long he'd been having trouble sleeping before he caved and came to Dean for help. If Cas wanted tucked in, then he was gonna get tucked in. Just this once of course.

He took the jacket from Cas' hands with a small smile and jerked his head toward the tiny pillow on the floor. "Alright, lay down and make yourself comfortable."

Cas laid on his side, facing Dean, and curled his knees a little. He took up a lot less space than Dean thought he would, folding in on himself. Dean kneeled next to the angel and draped the coat over him, straightening the corners at the bottom so they were spread out properly. Cas seemed to be getting the idea and practically snuggled down under the makeshift blanket, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

To anyone else it would look like Cas was already out, but Dean could see the tension in his shoulders and knew that he was still far from asleep.

Not really thinking, Dean reached for Cas' head, but froze halfway there and stared at his hand. Slowly he inched his hand forward, until it was resting feather light on the angel's dark hair. When he started using his fingertips to rub little circle's on Castiel's scalp, the angel hummed and turned his head, giving Dean better access to his hair.

Feeling more confident, the hunter began running his hand through the locks, brushing them back from his face and combing his fingers through them. After what simultaneously felt like forever and just a few seconds, Cas spoke. His voice was slurred and quiet, even in the silent room.

"What're you doing Dean?"

The man in question shushed him and continued the scalp massage and hair petting. "Just go to sleep Cas." he soothed.

Not long after, all the tenseness in Cas was gone, and he was breathing quietly through a partly open mouth.

On impulse Dean carefully pulled the trench coat off his angel and replaced it with his leather jacket. Who knew, maybe it would help. He rolled the trench coat up and placed it at Cas' back, then got up and went over to his own spot.

In the morning Dean was covered in his own jacket, and Cas' area was empty, but any doubts about the legitimacy of the night before were gone when Cas showed up later in the day. The circles under his eyes were much less noticeable, and he was in a much better mood than he'd been in the past couple weeks, his sarcasm less biting and more friendly.

And if his gaze seemed to find Dean even more often than normal, Dean didn't see a reason to call him out on it.