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He didn't make her move. Didn't make her repeat what she'd done wrong. She'd clearly gotten the message. He should be getting her in a cold shower. Finding her some clean clothes. But he couldn't let her out of his grasp yet. There'd been a terrifying moment tonight when Dean thought he'd lost her. And he needed the reassurance of her here in his arms. He moved to lean against the headboard, murmuring reassurances when Ji-a whimpered into his chest. He pulled off his flannel and tucked it around her then just leaned his head back and went to sleep.
Dean wasn't sure how much time had passed when Sam opened the door. Ji-a was asleep on his chest, her breathing still a little shaky.
"She do okay?" Sam asked, closing the door behind him.
"Yeah," Dean said, "Did great. As expected. She feels awful about it."
"Not panicking under pressure is an important skill," Sam said, "I'm sure she'll screw it up again. But she's learning fast. I'm impressed."
"She might just be cut out for this," Dean said.
"You should really get her up and showered and dressed," Sam suggested, "She probably needs some pain meds too, by the looks of it."
Sam gestured at the new, purple-red bruising at the tops of Ji-a's hamstrings. Dean startled and pulled his shirt down to cover it. She'd be beyond pissed if she knew Sam had seen her undressed.
"Can you…give us a minute?" Dean asked.
"What you don't want me to see your girlfriend naked?" Sam chuckled, "I'll go wait in the car. Text me with the all clear."
"Thanks man," Dean called after him.
She woke up in the shower.
"You're okay. You're okay," Dean repeated as she gagged up bile, "You're in a lot of pain and you drank on an empty stomach. It'll pass."
He held her up against his chest and rubbed her back gently.
"Come here," he said, lifting her into his arms, "Let's get some clothes on you so you can sleep for real."
He toweled off her hair and put her on the bed then rifled through her bag. Her butt and thighs were a mess of bruises. He didn't even want to put underwear on her right this minute. So he grabbed a dress, the one she'd worn that fateful night in Cuyahoga River Valley, and sat her up so he could get it over her head. She was half-asleep at that point and he managed to rouse her enough to get a couple of aspirin into her. She'd feel awful in the morning. But he'd deal with that later. She was hard asleep, still twitching from the pain, as he finished rubbing arnica onto her bruises and lay down next to her.
All Clear. He texted Sam.