CHAPTER 4 - black panties yadda yadda yadda and now I'm tired

DEAN POV

As I walked out to join Sammy I had a sudden thought about her hair. Most of it was grimy and caked in blood and knowing that she would want to wash it, I got a cup for her to use. Remembering how she had tried to do things herself I instructed her no to submerse herself and left the scissors in case she could not lift her arms to remove the shirt.

When I walked out of the bathroom Sammy was sitting at the foot of his bead staring at the disturbing sight of my white sheets covered in blood and grim. Walking to the far side of the bed I began stripping the sheets from the bed and placing them in a trash bag. I walked over to the table and picked up the one bag I hadn't unpacked and drew out a new set of white bed linens and started dressing the bed.

Sammy came to help me and when we were finished I set out one of my flannel button up shirt and pair of pajama bottoms with a drawstring. Then I returned from the linen bag and took out a pack of women's underwear I bought in a size that I hoped would fit her. Nothing fancy just some cotton bikinis in black, red and royal blue (okay so they had white – but did you seriously think I'd buy white?). As I was debating on the million and one combinations possible and learning more than I will ever need to know about women's undergarments the song Abra Cadabra came to mind,

"I feel the magic in your caress.

I feel magic when I touch your dress.

Silk and satin, leather and lace;

Black panties with an angel's face."

And with that divine intervention I had my answer.

From behind me Sammy asked, "Now what?"

"Now what…what?" I threw over my shoulder at Sammy who was pulling new pillowcases on the pillows. I laid out all of the things I would need to dress her wound.

"Now what do we do about the girl?"

"Dawn"

"What?"

"It's her name. Dawn"

"Okay, so what do we do about Dawn? She said she didn't see anything, but she seems like she isn't telling us everything."

"We don't do anything. We fix her up and say, "thank you, here is our card," then ride off into the sunset. You said it yourself she didn't see anything." I could feel his eyes on me.

"We don't do anything…ride off into the sunset? Threat dissolved? You're kidding right?"

"No Sammy she doesn't need to know. She'll be alright. We will tell her that we work for the government and that he was a serial killer or something - yadda yadda yadda."

"No."

"No what, Sammy? I'm tired just tell me what you want."

"We have to tell her she is marked for life – and the name is Sam."

"Alright whatever. So we tell her a partial truth. She was marked and that anyone in the know who sees her mark will try to finish the claim – but we'll tell her it's some kind of cult."

"She deserves the truth Dean."

"Don't you think I know that?" I finally turn towards my younger brother. "She saved my ass dude, she deserves it more than anyone but do you think she'll really believe us?"

"I have a feeling that she might at least a little. Why don't we test the waters then decide what to tell her."

"Okay but wait until we fix her up. I owe her that. She might freak if we tell her before."

"Deal."

From in the bathroom I heard a weak, "Guys? I'm all pruney and tired can I get out now?" I smiled to myself. She knew we had to talk and waited for as long as she could.

We both stepped towards the bathroom and what I saw nearly stopped me in my tracks. Dawn was on the toilet seat with the towel wrapped around her like a dress. Her hair was dark against her skin and her big blue eyes were wide and round. She looked ready to pass out. The smile left my face.

Gently Sammy and I guided her out into the main room and she shivered at the air conditioning. I made a not to myself to lower it. She sat on the bed next to the clothes I set out for her and looked at then as if deciding how she was going to put them on. Sammy went to drain the tub and clean up the bathroom.

I took the decision from her when I opened the bag of underwear and guided a pair up to her thighs stopping at the edge of the towel then I repeated the process with the pajama bottoms. I stood her up and looked directly into her eyes as I helped her guide them the rest of the way up her body under the towel. I was so tempted to look that it was the only thing that could possible stop me from doing so. I hadn't taken the time to notice earlier and I wouldn't do so now. She was a patient not a date.

Her eyes were huge but she did not protest. I seated her once more and helped her to lie down on her stomach. Her wounds sorely needed tending.

On her stomach with her hands curled up on either side I removed the towel baring her back to the room. She shivered again so as I walked to the table I made a side trip to the thermostat. When I came back to the bed I turned up the bedside lamp and noticed for the first time the red undertones in her hair as it dried. Like the red at dawn. It was fitting.

I pulled all her hair to the far side of the pillow away from her face and back. Now she could watch me and not have hair in her eyes or on her shoulders. I saw her back for the first time and nearly flinched. I gave her some pain killers.

"I'll have to stitch you up in a few places and poke around to make sure there is no debris that will cause an infection."

"Alright, do what needs to be done."

Sammy came back into the room with the scissors and placed them on the bedside table within reach. Then he knelt at the edge of the bed ready for whatever I needed.

I started with the gash on her upper back, by far the worst of the wounds when I finished tiny, nearly translucent stitches shine like spider webs in the light. I cleaned some other scratches and placed antiseptic on all of them, coving the major gash with a bandage. The last thing I dealt with was the carved mark on her shoulder blade. It was the one I was most worried about. There was no way to hide this mark - it was obviously intentional. And it was obscenely close to mine.

Had the bastard who tried to carve him up years ago succeeded he would never lived as long as he had. His was unfinished and on his chest – tiny in comparison to hers – but then again his captor had more time. Thankfully he had killed the warlock before he could start the claiming ritual. She would just have to worry about another trying to finish the claim. He cleaned the mark as best as he could and hoped that he could find a way to safeguard her from claiming. Christ! How was he going to explain the claiming?

As he was placing a bandage over the mark he noticed silvery lines on her sides – old scars. There were many and even a few that traced down her arms – defensive wounds. There were way too many for such a young woman. Had she been abused? It would explain her shielding when she awoke the first time as well as her assessing gaze.

Well here goes nothing.

"Your all patched up. You only needed a few stitches and that should heal nicely. It will probably be one of your smaller scars." I felt her flinch. She didn't want to discuss her old scars – no surprise there. Sammy looked up at me from her place on the floor and gave me a questioning look but I ignored it. "You will also have a brand new piece of body art."

"What?"

Sammy gave me a look that clearly said, "You Ass!" then took over.

"That guy you saved my brother was carving you up when Dean finally came to. I'm sorry."

"Carving me up? Like a Jack O' Lantern? Shit its bad enough when I wear a bikini - at the rate I'm going I won't even be able to wear a scuba suit to the beach."

I nearly choked. She was lying here in pain and she was worried about bikini season – in eight months. Sammy looked just as bewildered as I felt.