Another crappy hotel, another crappy town. Yet another crappy night where I lie wide awake, listening to you mutter and toss and turn, caught in a sleep that's worse than not sleeping at all.
I wish I could kill the demons that torment you.
I wish you could live a nice, normal life.
But wishes are less real than the ghosts that haunt you. This is our life. This is where we have to be.
I steal from my bed and rest a hand upon your shoulder.
"Dean," you murmur, quieting at my touch.
I smile and guard your slumber.