Note: Here is the next chapter, as some of you asked. :) It really means the world to me that there are people who like what I write. Please, let me know what you think about the new chapter :)

Days were rolling on, becoming weeks, and weeks turned into months. It took me a while to realize I was eager for the boys' returns and I was impatient to see them again. I spent a lot of time worrying about them even though I was aware of the fact they were all grown men and could take care of themselves. Couple of times they came home pretty beaten up and covered with bruises but nothing serious actually. Except the last time, a week ago when I almost freaked out when I saw them – there was too much blood for my taste.

It was already dark outside and I was on my laptop, working in my room when I heard the Impala's grumble. I could never mistake that sound – I knew it as well as the sound my Mustang made when I start the engine. I huge happy smile appeared on my face and I rushed downstairs to meet the boys. I felt something's wrong the moment I opened the door for them. Sam limped, there was blood all over him – I was hoping it wasn't his - and Dean was moving so carefully as if every part of his body was in pain. I ran down the stairs. They both were a mess – bloody and dirty, looked exhausted and on their last leg.

"What happened?" I could hear the panic in my voice "Are you okay?"

"Do we look okay, Blake?" Dean growled at me "Help Sammy."

"Fuck off, Winchester!" I barked back at him and met Sam on the halfway to the house, offering him my shoulders to lean on them; faint grateful smile appeared on his lips, Dean trailed after us. Sam quickly briefed me about the situation – cut wound that needed stitches, sprang leg and Dean's dislocated shoulder – I wondered how he managed to drive in that condition.

Once we got in the living room, I put Sam on the couch and rushed for bandages while he was taking his shirt off – I knew Dean wouldn't let me even look at him before I take care of his little brother. Dean sat on the closest to the door chair and his eyes followed me with concern while I was rushing around to get ice for Sam's ankle and needle to patch him up. I felt knot in my stomach – I hated blood, mine or someone else's, it always made me sick. I took a deep breath to calm myself down and do what I had to. Bobby was checking a case with the sheriff so I was everything the boys had and I was not going to let them down.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Dean asked

If I could kill with my eyes in that moment in front of me would've been his roasted ass. Still, I decided to answer him while I was inspecting Sam's wound and cleaning the blood on his shoulder around the deep cut.

"Dad taught me" I said, ignoring the feeling of retch in my stomach; I really hated blood

"What didn't he teach you?" Dean asked sarcastically

I knew what he was doing – he was trying to keep his mind busy so he wouldn't think of the pain or worry too much about his brother. So I decided to keep a conversation with him, plus I needed to stop thinking about all that blood in front of my eyes, or I was going to throw up. But the truth was I didn't know what to answer him. Dad taught me a lot of things – to fight, to shoot, to survive in the open, to track different kind of trails, to render first aid. Sometimes I thought he was preparing me for the apocalypse and I was making jokes about that all the time – jokes he really disapproved. Now everything was clear to me. I knew why he did it. He wanted to be sure I could take care of myself no matter what. He even once made me stitch him up. Back then I didn't know how he had got injured but right now I supposed it was from a hunt. I didn't look to Dean when the words came – I was too busy taking care of Sam who silently stood throughout the procedure.

"What he didn't teach me is how to make assholes like you shut the hell up" I smiled at him "Are you two hungry?" I asked "I think there are stakes in the fridge"

"No" Dean shook his head "But I'd be better with a beer."

I raised an eyebrow while carefully making the last stitch on Sam's shoulder.

"Really, Winchester? That won't help you with the pain" I said and patted Sam on the back "You're ready" I took a deep breath; I didn't puke so I was proud of myself, or maybe I should say proud of my stomach

"Thanks, Blake" the little Winchester said and smiled at me

"You're welcome, Sam" I winked at him "Now if you're not gonna eat, take your ass upstairs and go to bed. You look like shit and you need some rest"

"Well, that was nice" Sam said while putting back his shirt on; he didn't even realized it's ruined with all the blood stains on it

"Well" I leaned and put a quick kiss on his cheek "Go get some sleep. I'll take care of Dean, promise. Now, disappear. Doctor's order"

He laughed and tousled my hair. Sam wished good night and went to his bed. Dean gave me a strange look, while I was cleaning my hands of Sam's blood. I was going to need more ice and wet towels so I went to get the materials I needed to patch him up.

"Come here" I said and patted the couch so he'd sit next to me "Give me your back"

He obediently did what I told him. I helped him to take of his leather jacket I liked so much on him. I put my hands on his dislocated shoulder. It was going to hurt him like a bitch.

"So…" I started "What were you after this time?" I was trying to distract him

"Just fix my shoulder" he said irritably

"Oh, Dean, you're such a dick sometimes" I said and with quick smooth move pulled and heard how his bones cracked

He moaned when his shoulder got back on its place

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed

"Sorry" I made guilty face; I really hated I caused him pain

I took a wet towel and kneeled in front of him and started cleaning his face. Then I saw his split lip and his black eye. My heart ached and I made a grin. I didn't even realized what I was doing but my hand cupped his cheek gently, my thumb on his lips. His green eyes were burning me. In that moment I realized something. It hit me hard – I was having a crush on him. I bit my lower lip and quickly pulled my hand away, taking the towel again. I could feel his gaze on me but I didn't dare to meet his eyes. I felt my blood racing through my veins. How could I have been so stupid – for weeks all I'd been doing is waiting eagerly to see him and spend time with him. How became so that it hit me so late? I wanted a serious relationship – something he couldn't give me, even if he tried. And I already had told him I wasn't interested in him that way. I thought about it – maybe even back then subconsciously I knew I was lying. But we friend-zoned one another long ago and I didn't want to ruin our friendship so I had to get over it no matter what.

I quickly cleaned his face, trying to be tender and not cause him any pain with that black eye. I stood up and went to the kitchen to leave the towels. When I came back with bottle of beer in my hand Dean was still on the couch – leaned back with his eyes half-closed. He looked asleep, but I knew him well enough and I could feel his look on me. I sat next to him and handed him the beer. He smiled and that warmed my heart. I relaxed; I could feel the warmth of his body next to mine. Somehow we ended in a hug, his head resting on my shoulders. The beer was long forgotten and left on the floor. My fingers were in his hair, stroking him gently. I knew how tired he was, I could hear him sighing. Dean was sick with the life he was leading, and still it was the only one he knew – the only thing that was helping him to keep going was the fact he helped people. I hugged him tighter, trying to comfort him and give him some peace. Involuntary I started humming an old lullaby that was stuck in my mind since my childhood.

"What's that?" Dean asked after a while, his voice sleepy

"Cuddling with my best friend" I smiled at him, hoping he couldn't hear my heart bumping in my chest

"No, the song…"

"Oh" I was confused for a moment "An old lullaby Dad used to sing to me" the song was "My Wayward Son" by Kansas

"But you're a girl…" now he was confused and his sleepy look made me laugh

"Dad always said I'm the son he always wished for"

Dean mumbled something and put his head back on my shoulder. I continued humming and soon his breathing became even and deep. He was asleep. I couldn't help myself and I put a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Sweet dreams, Dean" I wished him and cuddled next to him, closing my eyes.