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Title: Breathe Me
Author: [personal profile] misachan
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 2510
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: Breathplay square for kink_bingo amnesty

Summary: By the time Dean came to the water was already up to his chest.

A/N: Thank you as always to [personal profile] aerilex, who always lets me throw fic at her on short notice. Nocnitsa or night hags are nightmare spirits from Polish, Russian and Slavic folklore. In legends they target children, but that's never stopped something from finding Dean tasty before.:)


By the time Dean came to the water was already up to his chest. In that first lurching second of trying to figure out what the hell had happened the water reached over his shoulders, pouring through the Impala's half-open windows. Dean didn't remember how he'd even wound up in his car; the last thing he remembered he'd been in the woods, chasing some witch. It was a nothing hunt, something he and Sam had done hundreds of times.

He looked around for Sam but didn't see him, which he guessed was something to be thankful for, but when Dean tried the door nothing happened – not like the water pressure was holding it closed, more like there wasn't even a door there. Same with the window: when he tried to roll it down nothing happened and when he tried to break the glass he couldn't even chip it.

A spell, then. Had to be some kind of spell.

Figuring out that much did absolutely nothing to help as the water reached his neck.

“Dean.”

Dean turned his head and saw Castiel peering through the half-open window. He couldn't see what Cas was standing on – from what Dean could tell he was stuck out in open water – but the water was high enough that he didn't care. “Cas, get me out of here.”

“You're dreaming,” Cas said. “The nocnitsa attacked you and is trying to drain your life force.”

“The what? We were hunting a witch.”

“They can make themselves look human.”

“How the hell do you know what happened?”

“I know because you're dreaming. You need to wake up, if you die in the dream you'll die outside of it, that's how they hunt.”

“You mind giving me a hand with that, then?”

Cas cocked his head to the side, like he hadn't realized Dean would need help. He reached through the window and pressed two fingers against Dean's temple, Dean closing his eyes to prepare himself to kick some nocnitsa ass, however it was someone did that.

The water kept reaching higher. “Cas?” Dean said, opening his eyes. “What's the problem here?”

If anything, Cas looked even more alarmed than Dean felt. He tried to wake Dean again with the same lack of results, pulling his arm back as the car kept sinking. “She constructed this dream, I can't control it the way I can one of yours.” He tried to pull the door open and got nowhere, and if Cas couldn't budge the door then Dean knew full well he had no shot.

Dean didn't have time to say anything else before the water came up over his head. Dean watched Cas disappear high above as the car kept sinking into the dark water, the lights on his dashboard blinking out one by one.

Dean closed his eyes and repeated to himself Thiissadreamthisisadreamthisisadream over and over. Usually knowing he was having a dream meant he could just wake himself up no problem but it wasn't working now, every time he opened his eyes all he saw was water. He squeezed his eyes shut as his lungs started to burn, his fists so tight he felt his nails digging into his palms. Dean knew he could hold his breath for about two minutes, almost three if he really pushed it but he didn't know how many seconds he'd already lost. He looked out the window but couldn't even see the surface anymore; he felt his ears pop as the car kept sinking. Cracks spiderwebbed across the windshield; he tried pushing against the glass and felt the windshield start to give, enough to give him some hope but not enough to let him escape. He pushed again, hard enough to just feel the windshield start to give.

Dean realized then he'd just fallen deeper into the nocnitsa's trap – trying to break the windshield open had done nothing but use up what was left of his air. Dean fell back into the seat, dark spots in front of his eyes now. It wasn't like he had any hope of swimming to the surface even if he had gotten free. Sam. Cas. C'mon, one of you wake me up.

He could feel himself losing the fight to hold his breath. He hoped Sam took his sweet time killing this thing.

The instant before his body forced him to make that fatal gasp for air Dean felt a hand clasp tight over his mouth and nose. He opened his eyes and saw Castiel kneeling over him, balancing on the driver's seat so he was all but in Dean's lap. He locked eyes with Dean and nodded once, like this was some plan they'd already agreed on; Dean couldn't even begin to wonder what was going on now before Cas pressed his lips over Dean's and breathed air into his lungs.

It wasn't quite a full breath but Dean didn't think he'd ever felt anything so perfect. When he pulled back Cas pressed his hand back over Dean's mouth, then looked up once and back at Dean.

Back to the surface. Gotcha. Cas looked down again and Dean realized he'd clutched onto his coat sleeves without realizing it; Dean let him go, nodding once to let Cas know he understood what was going on. Castiel disappeared in an eyeblink, the water muffling the usual sound of his wings.

Dean leaned back against the seat and prepared himself to wait, counting off the seconds. When he reached a minute Dean started to get antsy; when he reached two Dean felt himself getting light-headed again, anxiety creeping up his spine. Cas wouldn't let him drown, dream or not, so if he wasn't back there must be a real bad reason.

Just as he felt like he was on the edge of passing out Castiel was back, pressing Dean back into the chair as he breathed for him. Then he was gone again, leaving Dean alone in the dark water.

The sky high adrenaline and the lack of air combined to make the whole situation surreal and distant. Dean knew he should be panicking but his mind couldn't hold onto the idea that he was really in danger; all he could process was sensation. The cool of the water. The way the leather seat felt against his skin, something Dean had never really dwelled on before. Castiel's weight pressed against him, his stubble scratching against Dean's chin as his lips found Dean's again. The sudden rush of warm air filling his lungs, easing the ache deep in his chest for a few seconds. This time when Cas tried to pull away Dean grabbed his tie. Cas tilted his head to one side, his brows furrowed in a mute question. Dean leaned forward and kissed him, just brushing his lips and not capable of questioning what the hell he was doing. Cas tensed for an instant, then Dean felt his lips move slowly and carefully, like this was a delicate experiment. Dean didn't remember if he'd ever thought about kissing Cas before. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world in that moment.

Castiel disappeared and this time Dean didn't bother counting the seconds; time had gotten fuzzy and unreal, and when Castiel pressed close to him again Dean blurred the line between the breath and a kiss right away, being able to taste Cas kicking his adrenaline up even higher. Dean wrapped his arms around him, snaking up under his suit jacket and coat, feeling the muscles move under his skin. If he was going to die Dean knew firsthand there were plenty of worse ways.

It took a long time for Dean to gather his wits together and realize Cas hadn't disappeared again. He tried to shake off the cobwebs and tapped Cas' arm, glancing up. The only response he got was Cas' jaw tightening and Cas giving him another breath, one smaller than the first.

Dean guessed a little over a minute passed before he felt Castiel start shaking. He tapped Cas' arm again, hoping the what the hell he was thinking was clear on his face. Cas just shook his head and gave Dean another puff of air. When he pulled back Dean saw his lips were turning blue.

The realization of He can't. It's not letting him hit Dean like an oncoming truck. Cas seemed to read the thought on Dean's face, answering with a little shrug, his hair drifting around his face in the water. When he leaned in to give him another breath Dean stopped him, shaking his head. He doubted angels generally needed to breathe but Cas sure as hell did ,i>now, and Dean wasn't going to let this thing get them both.

Cas moved his hand away and kissed him, a deliberate, deep kiss that made Dean not even care that his chest was starting to burn again. Then Dean felt Cas' fingers against his forehead and wondered what his plan was, because this sure as hell hadn't worked the first time.

Dean opened his eyes and found himself in the same motel room he'd woken up in that morning, same crack in the ceiling, same stupid talk show on the TV. For one horrible instant Dean thought he was stuck in a time loop the way Sam had been the year before but Dean discarded that when he realized he was dressed and soaking wet, not to mention that Sam wasn't here and he would be if this was a loop. It wasn't until he looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw that the time was frozen that he realized what Castiel, the idiot, had done.

Son of a bitch. He put me in another dream.

He'd had one of those early morning dreams that morning where you were almost awake but not quite, and Dean remembered that was the time that had been on the clock right before he'd woken up. Cas just found that dream sitting around in his head and shoved him back in. Which meant Cas was still in the nocnitsa dream trap.

Dean was going to kill him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to run through his options, the panic he hadn't been able to feel in the first dream hitting him full force now. Dean forced himself to calm down – this was a dream, this was his dream, and unless angels or djinn or demons were throwing parties in his head he'd always been good at manipulating his dreams once he'd known that's what they were. Once he'd turned a nightmare into a party with all of his favorite Dallas cheerleaders, and if he could make that happen then he could work with this, too.

Dean picked up the remote and pointed it at the decrepit little TV, focusing every thought he had on Cas. The screen came into focus and Dean's heart climbed up into his throat.

On the screen Dean could see Castiel in the driver's seat he'd just escaped his lips blue and his eyes closed. His hands were tight fists though, enough that Dean could see droplets of blood drifting up from where his nails must have been cutting into his palms. Dean guessed he had seconds.

Dean told himself this was a dream. That meant he could do anything.

He knelt in front of the TV and reached one hand through the screen, grinning when his hand passed through the glass like there was nothing there. Fuck you, dream monster. The cold bite of the water took his breath for a second and Dean forced himself to ignore it. “Cas!” he said. “Cas, grab on!”

Castiel's eyes drifted open, blinking at Dean like he wasn't quite seeing him. “Cas, grab my hand! Hurry up!”

Cas' head tilted to the side, his eyes unfocused. He reached for Dean's outstretched hand, fumbling once before finally grabbing hold. His eyes rolled back just as Dean got him, whatever air he'd still had in him rushing out and Dean swore under his breath. He held on tight and gave one strong pull, hard enough that Dean fell backward to the floor.

That Cas was on the floor next to him was like a shot of adrenaline right into his veins. He turned Cas over and realized he wasn't breathing. “Son of a bitch, Cas, come on,” he said, tilting his chin up to clear his airway before giving him a rescue breath.

When Cas started coughing it sounded like music. He slapped Cas' back to help that along, putting one hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. “You okay?”

Castiel nodded, his eyes wide enough Dean could tell that was really not true. “Did I drown?”

“Little bit.”

He nodded again, water from his wet hair dripping on the floor. “I shouldn't be able to do that.”

“Yeah, lots of surprises for both of us today.” Dean looked around the room. “So what happens now?”

“The creature can't reach us here. We just can't leave, either.”

“When this thing dies, does that break it?”

Cas nodded slowly. “Yes. That should wake you up.”

“Cool. All we have to do is wait for Sam to wrap this up.” Not that they could do anything else, really, but it made Dean feel better to say it out loud. He looked at Cas, who was still leaning against the bed like a rag doll left out in a downpour. “Why the hell did you switch with me?”

“Did you expect me to leave you there?”

“You could have shoved us both in here.”

“I tried.” He shook his head. “The snare isn't designed to be escaped. It's a very clever creature, I could only maneuver if one of us stayed trapped.”

“How come I could drag you out, then?”

“I'm skilled at manipulating dreams from a distance, but I don't dream myself. You do. Once I'd trapped myself I had no power over it.” He was quiet for a few moments. “Try to not fight these creatures again, Dean.”

Dean wasn't sure what he was supposed to say now. Thanks didn't seem to cover it. Then Cas leaned his head back against the bed and Dean's shaken nerves gave up, not telling him stop as he knelt over Cas, a mirror of what Cas had done in the dream. “At least we can figure out how to pass the time, right?” he said, feeling almost as light-headed as he had in the dream when their lips touched.

And yeah, probably a bad idea but anyway, it was just a dream. Didn't count.

Once Cas' lips parted beneath his Dean told himself it was okay if it counted a little.

Then Cas sighed, pressing up to him still wet and shivering and Dean stopped caring what counted.

-fin-

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