Cas heard the voices even before the door to the bunker opened.
" – hand to yourself. I don't need any help." That was Dean.
Sam was next, just as irritated. "Shut up, moron. That ankle is broken. You need to let me set it."
"Um, no, you idiot. It's not broken and the first thing we need to do is get those gashes on your back sewn up. You're bleeding all over the place."
"You've got a cracked rib or two, Dean. We need to get you taken care of first. You're hurt a lot worse than me."
The door opened, the sound nearly covering Dean's response. "Oh, really? Don't think I missed you taking a swan dive into a tree. You could hardly keep your eyes open in the car. How many fingers do you see, anyway?"
By now, Cas had walked into the hub and could see the men making their slow way down the stairs. Dean's left arm was across Sam's shoulders and he wasn't putting any weight on his left foot. Sam had a busted lip and blood all over the back of his jacket. Dean was sporting an impressive black eye and both moved carefully and painfully as they made their way down the stairs, each trying to support the other.
"I have a finger for you," groused Sam. "Just stop being stupid and let me take care of you. You're barely standing up."
"Like hell! You need to lie down – " Dean paused as they got down the last step and he caught his breath.
Before either brother could say another word, Cas stepped up to them and touched both of their foreheads. It would have been far easier to heal them one at a time, but then they would have assumed he was taking sides in their argument. Their asinine argument about who was hurt worse and who was allowed to take care of the other first. It was an argument that Cas had heard played out a hundred times before and he was certain there were a thousand times it had happened that he hadn't heard it.
"Thanks, Cas," they chorused as if they hadn't been acting like four year olds. Really beat up four year olds who were completely unconcerned with their own injuries.
"You should both get some rest," said the angel, barely resisting rolling his eyes.
"Sure, mommy," smirked Dean, heading for the kitchen. Sam gave him a grateful smile and went to the library.
Though it was clear neither man intended to rest, Cas allowed himself to smile once their backs were turned. Yes, they were absolutely stubborn and he knew they'd never change. But they were his friends, and honestly, he didn't really want them to.