Nights like these Dean was thankful his years as a hunter had left him a light sleeper. Claire slept, although not soundly, and every time she stirred, every time she cried or whimpered or reacted in the most minute way to dreams only she could see, he was there.
He'd kiss her forehead, or whisper something in his own half asleep state, he'd stay awake until she slid unsteadily back into sleep and only then would he let his own eyes close. It wouldn't be an easy night for either of them, but at least if he could give her a chance to rest...well there was a chance the rest would make tomorrow work more smoothly.
Tomorrow came too quickly. The children had already knocked at the door more than once by ten AM, and though he persuaded them to come back later, Dean couldn't make himself fall asleep again. Too many up and downs had left him up, so he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her to try to anticipate the next nightmare before it happened.