"Oh my God. Dean!" Bela rushed to the door with a look of horror on her face. Bobby Singer and Sam were helping Dean inside the motel's door; Bobby on his left and Sam on his right. "What happened?" She screamed, face full of worry. "What happened?"
She had gotten in a few hours ago, after making an important and pricey cell; blissfully unaware of the hunt the boys were going on.
"It's…" Dean winced, "Nothing. I'm—"
"The idjit got clawed by a Chup. Grab the first aid kit, will ya?" Bobby and Sam lowered Dean onto the couch, while Bela frantically searched for the kit. "On the table!" Bobby grunted.
Bela spotted it, grabbed it, then ran into the living room at top speed, after kicking off her heels. "Good to… Uh… see you, Bela." Sam mumbled when she returned. He felt the need to say something to her; after all, she was Dean's…. Well, he wasn't sure what she was to Dean, but they had sex and talked about Hell, and Dean let her ride in the Impala and work on cases with them, so… She was something. Sam just didn't know what.
"Move over." Is all she said to him as she pushed past him to get to Dean. She handed the kit to Bobby, then kneeled down next to the injured Winchester. He's been through worse, but all the blood pooling around the wound on his shoulder was unsettling. His army green t-shirt was soaked through red, and torn from the claws of the beast.
"Hey, Bel." Dean smiled while Bobby began stitching up the wound. Bela averted her eyes from the needle weaving in and out of his flesh; instead she focused her gaze on his green eyes.
"You stupid…" Dean cut her off.
"How was your deal? How much did that amulet go for?" A pained smile crept onto his face, as Bobby stepped away, mumbling an insult on Dean's intelligence. Bela's expression quickly fell, turning sour— How could he care about money while he was bleeding on the couch?
"Don't change the subject, Dean! You could have been killed!" She knew what his response would be, but she just wanted to hear him say it. The same song and dance every damn time. It formed an unhealthy sense of consistency in their lives, while everything else fell apart.
"But I wasn't. We got the son of a bitch's head on a—" He stopped and laughed to himself at Bela's annoyed, irate expression. "God, I love you."
"Don't expect love back." She remarksd with a smile. "You're injured. You are now talking to nurse Bela."
"Sexy nurse Bela?" Dean asked with hopeful eyes that were immediately shot down by a no-nonsense glare.
"More like nurse Ratched." She gave another smile, then kissed his cheek. "I love you too, Dean… But I'm still going to be a ball cutter."