This was a one shot I entered into a challenge: My prompts were "Why'd you let me fall asleep?" and the song Ghosttown by Madonna.

If you like these, I've got an ongoing supernatural fanfiction going called Chances, Love, and the Hunt--check it out :)

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Dean is having another nightmare.

You noticed before he started to vocalize in his sleep, since you were lying next to him. His restlessness woke you, the tension that kept his body taut and rock solid underneath you rousing you to awareness as you realized something was wrong. Shifting in place under the sheets to face him, you sat up to see Dean bathed in sweat, his fist balled up into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut, and his entire body trembling.

You gently lay a hand on his bare chest—his skin burning hot to the touch—at the same time he starts to moan from some phantom pain caused by his current nightmare, and your heart breaks a little at the sound. This has been happening for weeks now as Dean's current state with the Mark of Cain continues to worsen, but neither of you have mentioned it to Sam. The younger Winchester was worried enough about Dean already—there was no point in making that burden any heavier.

"No," Dean groans a little louder, head tossing to the side. "Sam...Sam!"

Thank God Sam's not in the bunker right now, you think as Dean's voice raises in volume with each word. You softly slide your hand from his peck to his shoulder, fingers digging gently into the hollow where his throat met his shoulder as you get a good grip on his shoulder and shake him lightly. "Dean?" you call gently, not wanting him to wake up with his hunter instincts on high alert. Even if he accidentally hurt you waking up from a nightmare, he'd never forgive himself, and you knew it.

"Sam!" Dean cries out again, still in the throes of whatever hellish dream he was trapped in. When he calls out your name in sudden desperation, you shake him a little harder, raising your voice but leaning back in case he jumps awake.

"Dean!"

His head thrashes to the side, face scrunched up in pain. "No! No!" he pleads, and you move to sit on your knees beside him, cupping his face with your free hand as he calls for you and his brother in a broken voice.

"Dean!" you all but shout at him, abandoning caution entirely at the same time he calls for you again, tone strangled. Your voices mingle together in his room, but your voice finally breaks through to him, his eyes snapping open as your name falls from his lips in one last shout before he's awake. He jumps slightly in bed, one arm starting to raise defensively as his unfocused green eyes frantically search the room around him, breathing labored before his gaze finally find yours.

No words are spoken. They don't need to be.

His arm drops back to the bed, his fist slowly unclenches from the bedsheets, and his green eyes lock onto yours, desperately searching their depths as he slowly settles into reality and his nightmare bleeds away. His breathing is labored still, but as your thumb gently strokes along his collar bone in a feather light touch and your other hand gently cradles his jaw, his panting slows, breaths gradually evening out before he settles back against the bed.

You slowly stretch out beside him once more, lying against his side but pulling yourself up so you can lie even with him. Once you've settled, one arm tucked between you and him, you reach out with your other hand to gradually trace from his now lax bicep, up the top of his shoulder, down his collar bone, and up his throat before gently brushing your fingers along his jaw, his rough stubble tickling your fingers.

Dean's eyes slowly close, and he leans into your touch, a resigned sorrow starting to creep into his features as he swallows thickly. The silence between the two of you lingers before he eventually breaks it.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper, eyes still closed.

It's true that more often than not, these days, Dean does his best to avoid sleeping, and sometimes he's turned to you to help keep him awake. But he hadn't slept in the past four days, and it had started to take its toll. You loved him, you knew he was struggling, and you wanted to help however you could, but you weren't about to help him hurt himself.

"Nightmares or not...you still need sleep, Dean. You can't keep running on empty," you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to the front of his shoulder, which is closest at the moment. "Please...at least try to go back to sleep."

Dean sighs, the long exhale ruffling your hair slightly. "What's the point? I'll just have another nightmare, I'll just wake up again. There's no difference between no sleep and this."

"Maybe they won't come back this time—sometimes you've slept without any bad dreams," you suggest, and Dean's eyes finally open again to look at you. He seems so exhausted, so defeated, and it breaks your heart. The only times you see him peaceful recently are the rare moments he sleeps without any nightmares. Then, his expression is innocent and at ease, like it once was years ago before life really started to put the Winchesters through the grinder.

"I don't think I could sleep now even if I tried," he counters quietly.

You shift once again, adjusting so you can comfortably lie across his chest and gazing at him, his eyes following you as you move. "Maybe I can help with that," you tell him, a small smile playing across your lips as you lean down to gently kiss the hollow of his throat. He sighs softly and leans his head back, eyes fluttering closed for a few moments.

"I don't think riling me up is a way to help me sleep," he teases gently, drawing a small laugh from you.

"That's not what I'm doing," you tell him, fingers running down the side of his arm. Gently, you lay your head on his shoulder, and he turns his head to look at you a moment before you reach up to trace his hairline and the line of his jaw with your fingers, repeating the motion. "Relax..." you murmur, a low hum building in his chest beneath you. You smile at the sound, starting to softly hum a tune of your own before the sound becomes softly sung words.

"Maybe it was all too much, too much for a man to take. Everything's bound to break sooner or later, sooner or later," you sing quietly to him, your fingers starting to run across his cheek and jaw. His eyes open to watch you while your fingers gently roam across his face, listening. "You're all that I can trust, facing the darkest days. Everyone ran away. We're gonna stay here, we're gonna stay here. Ah, ah, I know you're scared tonight. Ah, ah, I'll never leave your side."

Your fingers brush gently across his lips, lingering as he closes his eyes and presses a gentle kiss to their tips. "When it all falls, when it all falls down—I'll be your fire when the lights go out. When there's no one, no one else around—we'll be two souls in a ghost town." Your fingers run back upwards, slowly threading through his hair to soothingly massage his scalp for a few seconds. "When the world gets cold, I'll be your cover—let's just hold onto each other. When it all falls, when it all falls down, we'll be two souls in a ghost town."

You pause long enough to press another kiss just under his jaw, a soft sigh escaping him at the contact. You can feel him relaxing underneath you, no longer rigid from the tension that had come with his nightmare, and you think that perhaps you really will be able to sing him to sleep.

"Tell me how we got this far—every man for himself. Everything's gone to hell. We gotta stay strong, we're gonna hold on. This world has turned to dust—all we've got left is love. Might as well start with us singing a new song, something to build on." You smile at the words, returning to your position on your side but scooting up so that you're looking down at Dean instead of up. His eyes open again to look up at you, and his attention is entirely on you, on your voice, your gaze, and he's leaning into every one of your little touches, even now as you stroke your thumb along his cheekbone, your other fingers teasing at the edge of his hair. "Ah, ah, I know you're scared tonight. Ah, ah, I'll never leave your side."

They're not just lyrics to a song, they're a promise, and he knows it—you can see it in his eyes, those clear green eyes looking up at you with untainted love and adoration despite the cursed mark he bears even now, despite the sleepiness that's creeping into his features at your soothing touches and soft voice.

"When it all falls, when it all falls down—I'll be your fire when the lights go out. When there's no one, no one else around—we'll be two souls in a ghost town. When the world gets cold, I'll be your cover—let's just hold onto each other. When it all falls, when it all falls down, we'll be two souls in a ghost town."

You lean in, and his eyes close again, his head tilting up instinctively for the kiss you allow him, lips lingering on each other for several long moments before you manage to get yourself to pull away, your nose brushing along his cheek, fingers tenderly running along his chest. His breathing is slowing down again, and he's drifting closer to sleep, eyes remaining closed this time as you pull back to gaze down at him. "I know we're alright, 'cause we'll never be alone in this mad, mad...in this mad, mad world. Even with no light, we're gonna shine like gold in this mad, mad...in this mad, mad world."

Your fingers roam upwards again, gently caressing his jaw and cheek, occasionally dipping through his hair. He's almost asleep, head turned in your direction, lips slightly parted with gentle breaths tickling your skin. You lower your voice even more, your softly sung words a bare whisper to the man you're so captured by, even in terrible times like now with the Mark.

"When it all falls, when it all falls down—I'll be your fire when the lights go out. When there's no one, no one else around—we'll be two souls in a ghost town..."

Because he's worth it—he's always been worth it, even if he couldn't see that, even if you were the only one to see it. To you, Dean Winchester is the embodiment of everything good in this world. And you would never leave him alone to any kind of hell he has to live through—not even if it seemed to have consumed him.

"When it all falls, when it all falls down—I'll be your fire when the lights go out. When there's no one, no one else around—we'll be two souls in a ghost town."

You scoot down, gently lowering yourself to curl up in his side, and his arm lethargically wraps around your waist to hold you close to him. He's all but asleep now, and you smile, snuggling deeper into his warm embrace as you whisper out the rest of the song.

"When the world gets cold, I'll be your cover—let's just hold onto each other. When it all falls, when it all falls down, we'll be two souls in a ghost town. When it all falls, when it all falls down, we'll be two souls in a ghost town."

That's it. That's the end of the song. You stop to listen, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, his breaths even and deep. He's asleep once again, and hopefully, this time, it will be nightmare free.

Resting one hand on his chest, you close your eyes, and just as you're about to fall asleep, you whisper the three words that, as inadequate as they are when it comes to Dean Winchester, are the closest words you have to describe what you feel for him.

"I love you."

And you don't need to hear him say it back, even when he's awake, because you know he does to. He doesn't have to speak to say so—you can see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch, hear it in his voice. Dean is the master at showing how he feels, and those gestures tend to be more profound than any words he may say.

Such as the fact that when you whisper those three little words to his sleeping form, his arm instinctively tightens around you.

I love you, too.