A little bit of the spell seemed to break when Crowley sat back and released his hold on his shoulder, and he felt a small pang of disappointment. The least his mind could do if it insisted on letting him have this would be to-...No. Crowley wasn't the type to sweep him up off his feet and envelope him in his arms. Even this much was more then he would ever show, and anything more expressive would have felt wrong. Even his sleeping mind was conscious enough to know that.
He gave a tight half-smile in gratitude that at least he wasn't leaving just yet, and he hoped his dream would keep that promise. He knew how scattered they could be, things changing in an instant whether you wanted them to or not.
"Thank you, my dear."
His eyes darted away when he mentioned the the nightmare as he struggled not only to make sense of what had been plaguing him in his sleep, but to also make sense of how much he wanted to confide in the other. Even now, it was beginning to fade around the edges, fuzzing out and growing darker in his memory, but he knew what it had been, even if the distinct images and sounds had begun to disappear. Knew it like a kick in the gut.
And as much as he wanted to take what comfort this dream was willing to give him, they never had been the best at talking. Not about the important things. Not unless they were three bottles deep a piece and working on their fourth. And most of the time, not even then.
But...He sniffed softly, his brow furrowing as he shifted on the ground to straighten up from where he'd been leaning against the post, and when he glanced back at Crowley it was with the stubborn determination of knowing you were in the middle of a dream and by God, if there was anywhere you could be honest, it was in your own mind.
"They were making me watch you get into the holy water. And there was nothing I could do to make them stop." And oh, that made tears prick behind his eyes, and he had to look away again, because dream or not, the being honest part was hard. His eyes darted across the fields, to Crowley's shoulder, the tips of those beautiful wings as they shifted around them, and he felt suddenly exposed for the spaces they didn't reach, a shiver running up his back. His own wings shifted, breaking through into reality and shifting to fill the gaps, creating a barrier between the two of them and the rest of the dream around them, and immediately he felt more at east.
"It's fine, dear. I know how these things are; we have little control over what our minds do when we're asleep. I'm just happy you're here, now." He wanted nothing more then to lean into the shield of his friend's wings, a blush spreading across his face as he imagined for just a moment how nice it would feel to be able to reach out for him and tuck himself fully underneath them, but he quickly shoved it down and cleared his throat as he glanced again at the bright spots of blue and green that he could see between long, soft feathers. "I had wanted to collect some of the blueberries. I was enjoying how vividly I could taste the food here, and wanted to take some with me, for however long the dream continued. Something came over me, though, and I must have dozed off. Which is terribly strange when you think about it, really Sleeping in a dream? Not even you are that lazy."
The smirk he gave Crowley was playful. He has no intentions of letting Anthony J Crowley live down the fact that he spent an entire century asleep, dream manifestation or not.
These two emotionally-constipated babies! UGH!
He gave a tight half-smile in gratitude that at least he wasn't leaving just yet, and he hoped his dream would keep that promise. He knew how scattered they could be, things changing in an instant whether you wanted them to or not.
"Thank you, my dear."
His eyes darted away when he mentioned the the nightmare as he struggled not only to make sense of what had been plaguing him in his sleep, but to also make sense of how much he wanted to confide in the other. Even now, it was beginning to fade around the edges, fuzzing out and growing darker in his memory, but he knew what it had been, even if the distinct images and sounds had begun to disappear. Knew it like a kick in the gut.
And as much as he wanted to take what comfort this dream was willing to give him, they never had been the best at talking. Not about the important things. Not unless they were three bottles deep a piece and working on their fourth. And most of the time, not even then.
But...He sniffed softly, his brow furrowing as he shifted on the ground to straighten up from where he'd been leaning against the post, and when he glanced back at Crowley it was with the stubborn determination of knowing you were in the middle of a dream and by God, if there was anywhere you could be honest, it was in your own mind.
"They were making me watch you get into the holy water. And there was nothing I could do to make them stop." And oh, that made tears prick behind his eyes, and he had to look away again, because dream or not, the being honest part was hard. His eyes darted across the fields, to Crowley's shoulder, the tips of those beautiful wings as they shifted around them, and he felt suddenly exposed for the spaces they didn't reach, a shiver running up his back. His own wings shifted, breaking through into reality and shifting to fill the gaps, creating a barrier between the two of them and the rest of the dream around them, and immediately he felt more at east.
"It's fine, dear. I know how these things are; we have little control over what our minds do when we're asleep. I'm just happy you're here, now." He wanted nothing more then to lean into the shield of his friend's wings, a blush spreading across his face as he imagined for just a moment how nice it would feel to be able to reach out for him and tuck himself fully underneath them, but he quickly shoved it down and cleared his throat as he glanced again at the bright spots of blue and green that he could see between long, soft feathers. "I had wanted to collect some of the blueberries. I was enjoying how vividly I could taste the food here, and wanted to take some with me, for however long the dream continued. Something came over me, though, and I must have dozed off. Which is terribly strange when you think about it, really Sleeping in a dream? Not even you are that lazy."
The smirk he gave Crowley was playful. He has no intentions of letting Anthony J Crowley live down the fact that he spent an entire century asleep, dream manifestation or not.