Bacon and eggs were the perfect breakfast option, but Mike feared the eggs prepared in such a way would upset Dean's stomach, so he decided to make pancakes instead, hoping it was a better option. While he was looking for some ingredients he came across a can of whipped cream and thought it might cheer the hunter up.

He grew worrisomely depressed yesterday and Mike didn't know why. And he was to chicken to ask in case it might turn up to be him. He found the hunter sitting up, slouched and eyes downcast, hands in his lap. He took a deep breath and slid the tray in his lap, hoping to at least draw a small smile.

But what he got was a heavy sigh as Dean just stared at the offered food. Mike took a deep breath and decided to try and find out what was going on, because he couldn't stand to see Dean so unhappy. Slowly, he sat on the bed and seemingly unintentionally nudged Dean's thigh with his knee. The hunter looked up, his green eyes so fucking sad, Mike would do just about anything to wipe those emotions from them.

" 'm sorry. I'm not supposed to have... chick flick moments and mental breakdowns. It's just that... I feel so fuckkng useless. I can't do anything to help, I can't even go to the fucking bathroom by myself. I reek and I could probably kill a vampire with my dead-man's breath. And you're... You're just being super nice and I can't... I can't even replay you."

As Dean talked, his eyes fell down on his lap again, but once he was finished, there was suddenly a very comforting hand on top of his, squeezing lightly for reassurance. Dean lifted his gaze and met the forest greens of the man before him. Mike smiled and pointed towards the breakfast tray as if he was saying that it would make him happy if Dean ate it.

Maybe even shared...

By the time they finished breakfast, Dean seemed a bit better, but looked rather confused when Mike came back into the room after putting the food away and nudged him to get up. Still, he went willingly, and allowed himself to be lead towards the bathroom. There, in the shower, sat a wooden stool and next to it, duck tape and a large plastic bag. For a moment it looked something out of a b-rated slasher movie where the bad guy would dismember his victim and stuff body part in the trash bag. But this wasn't a lame horror movie and Mike wasn't the bad guy.

Mike carefully sat Dean down on the stool, and Dean wished those warm hands would linger on his body a while longer, never before realizing how touch-starved he actually was. The guy took the big bag and pulled it over Dean's broken leg, then used the tape to seal it, wrapping it around Dean's thigh high enough just to be sure no water would reach the wound. Dean felt an odd thrill go through his body when Mike took his shirt and lifted it up to help him remove it. Since he was only i his boxer briefs for the lower half of the body, Mike pointed at them, then at the shower curtain, then himself and the fresh pair in his hand.

Dean has never been very good a charades, but he understood perfectly that Mike would let him remove the last piece of clothing on his own, and wait for him on the other side of the curtain for Dean to finish. Not that Dean would at this point mind if Mike was the one to remove his underwear.

The shower felt so damn good, the hot water feeling amazingly on his skin. It was weird to be sitting down during a shower, but Dean didn't care, he relished in the feel of the hot spray, of the smell of that vanilla soap he scented on Mike and in the end felt more relaxed then he ever remembered being. Always on alert and never having a moment to just lay back and relax, it felt good to be able to do this. He didn't know what was it about Mike, but he trusted him, trusted him to keep Dean safe and taken care off.

"Can I get a towel?" Dean asked and a hand with a towel reached through the shower curtain, making him smile. "Underwear?" He asked for next after he finished wiping and sure, there was a hand with a fresh pair of boxers, just his size too. "A shirt?" He asked and laughed when an empty hand reached in, index finger lifted to tell him to wait a second because Mike forgot to bring in an extra shirt. "It's ok, we can get one back in the bedroom." Dean said not wanting to trouble the guy.

Only when the curtain opened and Mike reached to help him up, pausing before his hand made contact with Dean's glistening skin. His pupils dilated as those eyes roamed over the hunter's lean body and Dean suddenly felt so hot under that gaze even if he should feel cold. The hunter reached to grab Mike's hand and their eyes met for another moment, which the man quickly broke and shook off any daze that was so evident in his eyes.

Dean had no more doubts the guy was attracted to him.

And as exciting that though was, it was also very scary. Because, here, in their little bubble, it was nice and Dean could let things develop, but out there... Out there Chuck was loose and toying with them and Mike would be another thing he could use against Dean. And Dean didn't think he could handle that.

Still, all those thoughts went down the drain when Mike's hands wrapped around his bare torso to help him up and out of the shower and he leaned into that touch, and he leaned onto Mike, suddenly feeling so fragile and tired. The man lead him to the bed and sat him down, then retrieved a nice, clean green shirt for him to wear and Dean put it on, and then looked up at Mike, eyes filled with all sorts of emotions.

Jesus what the hell was wrong with him? If he didn't know any better, he would say he was PMS-ing, for Christ's sake.

And once more, all those thoughts just washed away and Mike came closer, wrapped his arms around Dean and drew him closer in a warm and comforting embrace. Nothing ever felt so right as this did, and Dean held on, his fists clenched in the man's shirt, wanting, needed him.