After the End

Chapter Three

When they finally made it back to the bunker, the moon was still high in the sky without a hint of sunrise, meaning it wasn't as late as Dean had thought it would be when they returned. Maybe it only felt like hours looking for them, when really it hadn't been that long. Dean's concept of time wasn't great when he was worried.

He left most of his things in the car after locking up the garage because he was too tired to pack it back inside and put it all away. He led Cas and Jack into the bunker, using his last working solar powered flashlight to light the path inside. No one said anything as they walked, but it was probably because they figured Sam was sleeping. Dean was supposed to tell him when he found Cas and Jack, but he didn't want to wake him, especially because he'd ask what happened. He didn't want Sam worrying about the vampire attack, especially since they were all fine.

"Jack, you can have the same room," Dean told him, after checking for injuries in the middle of their dining room, shining the flashlight in his eyes as he squinted and looked away. Luckily, the kid escaped unscathed. "Go ahead and get some rest, kid." Jack nodded, his eyes heavy with sleep as he shuffled his feet down the dark hallway towards the guest room. Dean sat the flashlight on the table, pulling out a chair for Cas to sit down. "Let me fix your head and then we'll go to bed too," he said, guiding Cas towards the chair to sit down. He sat across from him, digging through the makeshift first aid kit so he could put stitches in Cas' head.

"Have you done this before?" Cas wondered, his hands braced on his knees as Dean glanced at him. The worried look on his face was understandable considering a stranger was about to have a needle right next to his eyeball, but it had to be done.

"Plenty of times," Dean assured him. "Sam's accident prone, so I've stitched him up more than once. Just trust me." He carefully took the bandages off Cas' head and cleaned the fresh blood from the wound with an alcohol soaked towel. Cas winced, his face contorted in pain. "Hey, you've got to keep your face relaxed while I have the needle near your brain," Dean teased, but he was completely serious. Cas didn't think it was funny and the frown on his lips stayed firmly in place. Dean cleared his throat, prepping the needle by cleaning it as best he could with what little he had. "I'd let you squeeze my hand, but I need both of them," he sighed. Not to mention, holding his hand would only make Dean more nervous, for whatever reason.

"It's okay," Cas breathed, clearly afraid Dean was going to hurt him. "Why would I have to hold your hand?" he asked, completely straight faced. Dean would have taken that question as a sarcastic remark had it come from anyone else, but from Cas, it was an actual question.

Dean licked his lips carefully, resting his hand on the table, twirling the needle between his fingers as he hesitated. "Well. . . sometimes, when you're hurt, physical contact makes it hurt less. If you have something to hold onto, something to squeeze, it might take your mind off the pain somewhere else in your body. Does that make sense?" he tried, hoping he explained it well enough. Cas cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowed in confusion, trying to understand Dean's words on his own. Dean sighed, a small laugh in the exhale. "It lets you take control of the situation, I guess. Grounds you, or something. My mom used to hold my hand when I scraped my knees as a kid. It always helped."

"I see," Cas mumbled, his face relaxing. "What if you squeeze too hard and hurt the other person? Then both of you are hurt," Cas reasoned, making Dean chuckle. Of course, he'd be concerned about something like that. Dean shook his head, deciding not to answer that. Instead, he figured he would show Cas what he meant, just a little differently considering he couldn't hold his hand.

Dean bit his bottom lip, hesitating with the needle between his fingers. Uncertain, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Cas' wrist, pulling his hand over to his knee. "You won't hurt me," Dean promised, sliding his hand away from Cas', instead moving it to rest on Cas' head to stabilize it from moving. He felt Cas' fingers digging into his knee as the needle pierced his skin, but he kept his hand steady. It was hard to work with little light, but eventually the wound was closed. "There, all better," Dean announced, sticking a new bandage over the stitches. He felt Cas' fingers relax, not moving away from his leg.