"Am I correct in assuming it was successful?" Castiel asked, tactfully as he probably could.

"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat softly, squeezing a little where his hand was resting loosely on top of Dean's. More like a coincidence than an embrace, but still warm. "It - it was. Thanks, Cas."

"I'd hoped." Castiel looked relieved. "You didn't call for me, and you both look much better than you did. More...like before." He hesitated, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "Of course it's not my place to meddle in your relationship." If anyone had a right, though, Sam was pretty sure Castiel did. He'd never been anything but supportive, no questions or jibes even at the beginning. Like it was an inevitable fact he was thrilled to accept. "But I'll admit I was getting worried."

"Yeah, well." Dean coughed. "Us, too."

Castiel smiled at them, across the table in the library they were sitting at. Beamed, really. Then he planted his hands on it and pushed himself up. "Well. I'd better be going."

"Oh...Cas. No." Sam shook his head. "You don't have to do that."

"I have a case," Castiel explained reasonably, shrugging.

"Then stay the night." Dean spoke up. "At least."

"I do appreciate the offer, but I'm not going to take you up on it," Castiel stated, gentle. "Me being here tonight would be too much like intruding on a couple's honeymoon, and of course I wouldn't dream of that." His eyes, Sam realized, were lingering on Dean's amulet. "I'm just happy I was able to help at all."

"Thank you," Dean called after him as he left, then glanced at Sam. "So. Bed?"

"Yeah." Sam felt light with exhaustion, like his bones had been hollowed out. "Mine, though. I don't think yours is really...fit to sleep in right now."

There's a demon in Sam's dream, still. It has black eyes and tries to dig vital pieces out of him. It's not Dean, though. It's not even Lucifer. Honestly, when Sam focuses on it, the one it looks most like is him.

It's weak, barely makes Sam bleed. He's used to that, though. Doesn't mind the scars.

He leaves it when he gets bored, goes wandering through the vast and untamed country of motels and dorm rooms and Cages and bunkers and oceans and Impalas and burning houses that is his sleeping mind. He's looking for Dean, the real Dean. The Dean who won't hurt him.

He's willing to wake up to find him.