"Dean?" Crowley asked from the hospital bed as he glanced around the room. The walls were white, but stained with the dust from the desert, which didn't seem too terribly hard to do all considered. Dean was seated in the chair in the corner of the room, his lab coat draped across his lap since he was off duty. The green eyed man glanced up to the scientist and smiled.
"Yeah?" He asked, his own thoughts racing as his eyes took in Crowley's tired ones.

"You've been taking care of me for days," He managed to say though his eyes were heavy and he wasn't sure where his voice was coming from. The medicine flowed through him, making him a bit drowsy. "Maybe you should tell me a wee bit 'bout yourself, hm?"

Taken only slightly aback by the fact Crowley wanted to know more about him, the soldier straightened himself in the chair and cleared his throat. "Well, uh-" he began, "I guess that depends on what you'd wanna know." Dean stated, his voice wavering slightly at the end as he tried to think of things that weren't too terribly personal. Maybe he could keep this on a friendly level. He wasn't one to just pour out his life on the table for everyone to see.

Crowley shrugged the best he could. "You." He murmured. Though he'd been doped up the entire time he was in the hospital, Crowley couldn't help but to start to feel things for this American soldier. It was different. Not like he hadn't slept with plenty of men or had a partner before, and he even doubted that Dean thought that way. Which was much worse than he'd let himself show.

"Uh- well, um." What could he tell him? This had been such an out of the blue question. "I've got a brother. Sammy. Sam. He's a bit younger than me and he's at college. Military isn't really his thing." Well, that was a start, wasn't it? Talk about Sam, good.

Dean was unsure he could talk about much more. Certainly not his mother or his father. But what about Castiel? Now that was a name he hadn't thought of in a while, and he wasn't even sure he could open up about that one. A soft sigh left the soldier's lips as he closed his eyes and rested his chin on his hand, bright eyes staring at his patient.

No one had visited Crowley, well, with the exception of Paul and Helen the first day. Apparently the explosive, though it had been delayed, had proven to be a small push in the right direction and they had to be at the office working on Crowley's work while he was recovering.

"Sam, huh?" Crowley asked as he opened his tired, ochre eyes to look at Dean. "I don't have siblings. Just me and my mum. Or was just me and my mum. Now it's just me." He murmured, laying his head back against his pillow.

That explained it. Crowley wasn't married, he didn't have any family there. Hell, the only people who were like his family just so happened to be the only people qualified to pick up his slack while he was laid up in a hospital bed. The thought nearly crushed Dean's heart, which seemed to be a newer feeling to him. It was incredibly odd that he'd attached himself to this man.

"Oh, yeah. Sammy. He's a good kid, much better than me. Got a brain that's quick as can be, ya know?" Of course he fucking knew, he was a scientist. Dean was being an idiot, and a bit of color flooded his face as he glanced down to the floor just in case Crowley happened to see.

The Scotsman grinned and let out a short, dry chuckle. "What's he studying?" He asked, genuinely interested in Dean's life, even if they were just going to talk about his brother. Though, he wasn't sure anyone could be better than Dean. The man was, in fact, sitting in here with Crowley although he was off the clock. Just as he did for the past few days.

"Law." The tone in Dean's voice was filled with nothing but pride as he spoke about his baby brother and it was written all over his face that he was happy and proud for Sam. Much more than their father had been. Though that was a different story. "Our father didn't want Sam to go to college. He wanted him to join the army like me. They fight like cats'n dogs most times they're together. You should see our Christmas." The laugh that had pushed through Dean's words had no humor in it at all and Crowley could just tell that that was a bad situation all around.

Crowley couldn't remember the last time he celebrated Christmas. 'A Pagan celebrates Saturnalia, Fergus.' His mother would tell him when he asked about Saint Nick each year. All other children around his neighborhood were always getting things for Christmas, but not poor ickle Fergy. He scoffed at the thought before shaking his head and looking to Dean. "I've never celebrated Christmas." The man confessed, which he managed to receive a shocked look from the soldier. "What?" He asked, his tone a bit testy. Embarrassment coursed through Crowley's veins and he closed his eyes, his neck and ears burning red.

Dean felt a bit horrible at how Crowley questioned the look he gave him. He hadn't meant it. Not the way that Crowley took it. "No-nothing, just-"

"Just what? Don't pity me. My mother was a different religion than everyone else, she didn't care much for Christmas, Christ, or anything like that." The wounded man snapped defensively, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Hey-" Dean said quietly, placing his coat on the side of the chair before he stood up and walked closer to the physicist. "I'm not judging, you just seem like you'd want a Christmas is all." He placed his hand on Crowley's shoulder and squeezed gently, his green eyes piercing down at the man.

Crowley watched how Dean stood up and walked to him, his heart was pounding as the man came closer, and he could hardly hear the words he was saying. Did he want a Christmas? Well, yes, he always had, but where would he have begun? And Christmas was only a month away now. He had no one to spend it with, not like everyone else would have.

'Stay back. Stay away, Fergus, you're going to get hurt. You're going to hurt. This man will hurt you.' His mind was screaming as his eyes wandered down Dean's arm to look at the hand that was laid on his shoulder.

This wasn't good.

"Dean-" He began, sinking into himself as he pulled his shoulder away from the American. 'Oh no. Oh no, please no.' His heart was betraying him as he beat faster, making his eyes open wide as his hazel ones stared up to Dean's green eyes.

'Fuck.' The soldier cursed himself, pulling his hand back and stepping back, the magic of his comforting Crowley disappearing as the wretched feeling of regret tried to settle in. He should've ignored whatever feeling this was, but he couldn't help the somber look that had settled on Crowley's face as he was explaining that they hadn't celebrated Christmas. He couldn't help the way his heart raced as he moved towards the man lying in the bed, or how he felt like Crowley's voice could just lull him to utter relaxation.

"I'm sorry, Crowley. I should go." Dean's voice was breathless as he bit down on his bottom lip, rushing to the corner to grab up his coat before dashing out of the room, smiling to the nurses and the doctor as though everything was all right.

He hated feeling that way, and if the military ever knew that he felt any sort of way for other men, he might has well kiss his career goodbye, and if his father ever found out? He would have to kiss his life goodbye.

Since Dean had left, Crowley decided he'd curl up and let the medicine take him over and maybe he'd be able to sleep through the night. The truth was, he couldn't even sleep without dreaming about Dean sitting over in the corner, smiling at him, speaking with him. Not making fun. Not giving him pity. Crowley overreacted, and he knew that.

'I hope he comes back.' He thought, his eyes heavy as he closed them and let himself drift off into a deep sleep.