A/N: Hey everyone, I'm so sorry I've been distant lately. The move kinda sent my mental health on a tailspin, and it took me a while to bounce back with the help of my friends and my therapist. But after a long talk with my friend last night about my lack of inspiration, suddenly I was inspired to write this! I hope you all enjoy it!

This is the tag for episode 11x13, Love Hurts. I remember liking this episode a lot, and I hope the chapter makes the long wait worthwhile.

Many thanks to redlite, Colby's girl, Pie and Winchesters, Wordspin (x3), mak2018, mtwin, Guest, and shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod for the wonderful reviews. At my lowest, I definitely went back and reread them to remind myself that there are good people out there who care.

Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable belongs to me.

Recurring Nightmares

Bobby trudged down the stairs, running a tired hand down his face. Getting old sucked. Falling asleep when he didn't want to was easy. Put on a movie he loved, and he was out in minutes. Falling asleep when he wanted to? That was tough. Staying asleep was tougher. Hence the trudging down the stairs at three o'clock in the morning to heat up some milk in the hopes that it would send him straight into the Sandman's arms.

Bobby flicked on the lights to the kitchen and almost had a heart attack.

"What in the Sam Hill? You trying to kill me, kid?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry," he mumbled around the neck of his beer bottle.

"What are you doing here? I thought you and your brother were hunting a ghoul up by the border in Minnesota?" Bobby huffed as he lowered himself into his chair, the thought of warm milk and his even warmer bed forgotten.

Dean shrugged again and Bobby tamped down the urge to grab the beer away from him. "We killed it."

Bobby stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

The ticking of the clock filled the kitchen, only interrupted by the clinking of Dean's bottle and the creak of Bobby's chair.

Damn Winchesters always did take too long to break, Bobby thought mournfully. There had been a time, not too long ago actually, when Dean would have been willing to open up to him. When Bobby would have been Dean's first call if something was eating at him and he felt like he couldn't go to Sam with it. Speaking of…

"Is your brother gonna pop out of nowhere and scare me half to death next?" Bobby knew by the way Dean's jaw jutted out and the vein in his neck popped that he had hit the nail on the head. "Dean?"

"I dunno, Bobby, he might." The kid tried to sound so noncommittal, so nonchalant about it, but Bobby could read him like yesterday's news.

"Dean…"

Dean sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. "I don't exactly know where Sam is."

"What?"

Dean nodded and chugged the rest of his beer. "Woke up this morning and heard him talking to New Ruby on the phone. He left. I waited around for a while, sent him a couple of texts, left a few voicemails…Tried finding him, but the kid's gotten good at covering his tracks. When he didn't show back up by dinner, I sent him a text to meet me here when he was done screwing his new girlfriend."

"Well, maybe he knew you heard him, and figured he'd meet up with you whenever. He is a grown man, Dean. We may not like his choices but we've gotta let him make 'em."

"Yeah…maybe…" his tone implied that he didn't believe Bobby.

"What?" Bobby groaned, allowing himself to get dragged into the Winchester's drama once more.

Dean squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "…Sam didn't know that I heard him."

"Why not? You eavesdropping on the boy?"

"No…he was talking to her in the room, it was just…early."

"Early?"

"Yeah."

"Dean…"

"It was like two a.m., Bobby. He sure didn't know I was awake."

"So?"

"So?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "So, why were you awake?"

Dean squirmed under Bobby's watchful gaze, but Bobby didn't flinch. Things may be different now, but that was still his boy sitting in front of him. The same boy who made Bobby want to wrap a protective blanket around him and shield him from the world. The same boy who would burn that blanket or use it to shield his brother instead. The more things changed with the Winchesters; the more things stayed the same.

Fortunately for Bobby, one of those things that stayed the same was his own stubbornness. It took several long minutes, but finally Dean sighed and scratched at his eyebrow.

"Haven't been sleeping so good," he mumbled.

"Hell?" At Dean's slow nod, Bobby cursed softly but nodded understandingly. His boy had been through literal Hell the past few months. "Alright, well, you didn't exactly warn me that you were comin', so your room ain't made up, but the couch is comfy. Go get yourself settled and I'll be right in."

"I don't need you to tuck me in, Bobby…"

"Don't sass me, boy."

When Bobby entered the family room with two mugs of warm milk, sprinkled with cinnamon, the exact same way Karen used to make it, he found Dean curled up on the couch, his sturdy frame just slightly too big for the overstuffed sofa, but sound asleep nonetheless. Bobby gently draped the old afghan Karen had knitted over the sleeping boy and settled in to keep watch through the night.

Dean gasped and sat up in bed, chest heaving against his damp t-shirt.

"Dean?"

Dean flinched back, sliding onto the other side of his mattress while frantically searching for the gun that he kept tucked under the pillow.

"Easy, buddy, it's just me."

Blinking rapidly, Dean's heart began to calm slightly as Sam's form took focus, his long arms stretched out towards him like he was trying to calm a scared animal.

"S'mmy? What the hell?"

"Easy, brother, you were just having a nightmare. You're okay. We're at the Bunker. Everything's fine," Sam soothed in a gentle voice.

Dean let himself fall back against his headboard, the memory of his nightmare zinging to the front of his mind. "Everything except Amara, you mean," he scoffed.

Sam sighed heavily and settled onto the mattress. "We're gonna get her, Dean. I'm gonna get her. I swear to God, I'm gonna get her. Then this will all be over."

Dean hesitantly allowed his gaze to meet Sam's, earnest and sincere. It made Dean want to puke. The images from his nightmare raced through his mind.

Sam vs. Amara.

Amara killing Sam to get to him.

Amara convincing him it was the right thing to do because now they can be together.

Dean going along with it, completely helpless to deny her.

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, you better," he grumbled, moodily lowering himself back onto the mattress, missing the rolling of Sam's eyes at his big brother's obvious deflection.

Sam huffed and eased himself off the mattress and into the easy chair next to Dean's bed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean mumbled, half-asleep already.

"What, you're the only one allowed to keep watch? I'm not hauling my ass down the hallway because you're screaming bloody murder," Sam sassed, knowing he would run down that hallway a million times if he had to.

Dean yawned, too tired to argue. "Just go to sleep, bitch. And don't watch me sleep, you Twilight-freak."

"Goodnight, jerk," Sam groaned back, extending the footrest of the chair and leaning back to go to sleep.

As Sam allowed his eyes to drift closed, he missed Dean peaking his head out from the pillows to double check that he was still there before allowing himself to finally rest.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that! Again, I'm so sorry for making y'all wait for this one. I'm hoping to be back on a semi-regular schedule as my life starts going back to normal, so fingers crossed I'll see you all here next week!