Red tinted water swirls down the drain. The black stitches hold together my skin, trying to repair the stab wound. After numerous injuries similar to this, I'm confident in Sam's ability to stitch me back up.
"Dean, are you alright in there?"
I shut off the shower water.
"Yeah."
I know he's just being a caring brother, but I don't need to someone to make sure I'm alright every five minutes. I've lost more blood than did tonight a handful of times.
I put my boxers and pants on with care, moving as slowly as possible so I don't rip the stitches out. Sam is seated at the table when I open the bathroom door.
"Yeah. Let me know if you hear anything else."
He hangs up his phone, looking at me.
"Who was that?"
"Jody. She just took down a nest of vamps a few hours ago."
"Alone?"
Jody is tough, but a whole nest of vamps solo?
"She had Claire with her."
"I still cant believe she is letting Claire tag along on hunts now."
I rifle through my duffle bag, pulling out a fresh t-shirt. I stick my arm through the hole, pulling the shirt over my head. I let out a curse when I feel the stitches tugging my skin.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing I can't handle, Sammy."
I straighten the hem of the shirt before I sit down across from my brother. I take a swig of my beer, wishing it was stronger. I could always reach for the whiskey or just run out for something, but I'm not in the mood.
"We're going back to the bunker tomorrow."
I don't bother arguing. There will always be more cases. I can get the waitress some other time. She wasn't even that attractive.
"Alright. i'm turning in."
"I'll put some gauze over the stitches in case there is any discharge overnight."
I laugh at my brother, but I'm glad as all hell to have him here. If it wasn't for him, I would have stitched up the gash on my own or bled out.
"You should have gone to medical school, Sammy."
He doesn't comment. He just grabs the first aid supplies, patching me up again while I hold up my shirt.
"Try not to move around too much."
"I've had stitches before, Sam. I know what to do."
I lay down on top of the blankets as Sam heads into the bathroom for his shower.
I walk towards my bedroom, duffel in hand. I set the bag down on my bed, unzipping it. Any dirty clothes, I throw onto a pile. I restock the bag with clean clothes, zipping it up and tossing it aside. A sharp pain in my lower abdomen makes me wince. I roll up my shirt, peeling back the gauze just enough to check things out. Some blood but nothing alarming. I've had worse. Like the car accident with Dad.
"I'm going out on a supply run, need anything?"
"No."
I don't get a response back, just the sound of the bunker door slamming shut.
I head into the library, putting a record on before taking a seat at one of the ancient tables. I open my laptop, browsing for nothing in particular.
The bunker door opens and Sam enters, grocery bags in hand.
"Look who I found."
Cass follows Sam down the stairs. I stand up, closing my laptop halfway. I throw my arms around Cass, careful not to pull at my stitches. Now would be he perfect time to ask him to heal me, but this is the first time in months that I've actually seen him. He's been God-knows-where doing God-knows-what. Wait, God wouldn't know anything because he is still out of the damn picture.
"Glad to see you, Cass."
"You too, Dean."
I let my arms drop as I make my way to the kitchen. I aid Sam in putting the groceries away. Beer, junk food, cereal, and the mother of all things holy.
"You got me pie?"
"It was Cass' idea."
I look at the distracted angel.
"Thanks."
He nods in response, turning his attention back to whatever he was looking at.
I will never be able to understand him.
"It was fun hanging with you, Cass, but I'm going to bed. Night."
"Night."
"Goodnight, Dean."
I start walking back to my room, making a quick stop in the bathroom for a shower. There is no sign of infection in or around the wound.
I shut off the water, stepping out into the steamy air. I use a towel to dry my hair as best I can. I slip my arms into the robe before picking my dirty clothes up off the floor. The hallway is clear as I make my way back to my room. I open and shut the door, turning on the light. I remove my robe as I drop my clothes onto the pile from the hunt. A fresh pair of boxers from the drawer find home on my hips. Just as I reach for sleeping pants, there is a knock at the door. Of course Sam would be doing a last minute wound check.
I pull the door open, revealing the familiar trenchcoat wearing angel.
"Hello, Dean."
He takes a minute to fully examine my body.
"What do you need, Cass?"
He reaches a hand out and I step away from his touch. He looks confused, hiw signature expression.
"Let me heal you, Dean."
He stick his hand out again and I grab his wrists, holding him at bay.
"I'm not going to use you the minute that you reappear, Cass."
"Dean. Let me heal you. This is not using me."
I let my guard down for a second, debating whether or not to push him away or let him get rid of the pesky gash. Apparently, I let my guard down in an obvious manner. Cass manages to gain control, catching me off guard as he flips me around to pin my back against the wall. It takes me a little too long to understand what is going on. I've had girls in this position before and I've seen Cass use it on Meg.
Something inside me refuses to push Cass away. I haven't seen him in so long and being so close to him now... I wonder.
Testing the water, I let go of Cass' wrist, moving my hand to cup the back of his head. Something indecipherable flickers in his eyes. Lust?
The air is a charged. It's now or never.
I pull Cass' lips to mine, pleased by the gasp he lets out. I nibble his lip, knotting my fingers in his dark hair to deepen the kiss.
It's different. Kissing a guy is better than kissing girls.
It's wild and unpredictable. It's rough but gentle. It's exhilarating. At least that's how it is kissing Cass.
He breaks the kiss, leaving me wanting more.
"Dean..."
My name is a whisper on his lips. He wants this as much as I do.
"What are we doing, Dean?"
"Expressing emotions, Cass. Don't over think things."
He nods, his gaze falling back to my lips. When our lips connect this time, it's gentle and caring. It's not the same desperate kiss from earlier.
***Cass' POV***
I untangle myself from Dean's limbs. He is fast asleep. After the physical activity he just participated in, I would expect him to be exhausted.
I maneuver through the maze that is the bunker until I locate the kitchen. Sam is seated at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him. Upon my entry, he glances up from the newspaper.
"Morning, Cass."
"Good morning, Sam."
I take a seat across from him, studying his every move.
"Did you heal Dean?"
"Yes. He put up a fight but I overpowered him."
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't question it.
"Thanks for spending the night with him."
"It was very educational."
I can tell that he is confused by my statement.
"I didn't think cudddling was educational, but whatever you say, Cass."
He raises the mug of coffee to his lips as I speak.
"The sex was more educational."
Sam chokes on the coffee, struggling to keep the coffee in his mouth.
"You had sex with my brother?"
Why does this seem so surprising to him? It is a natural act that humans participate in all the time.
Dean comes into the room, his hair disheveled. I have the sudden urge to reenact the scene from last night.
By the look he gives me, he does too.