Sam was up waiting for them when Dean and Ji-a returned home. She'd managed the ninety minute drive back. But she wasn't doing great. Dean was hoping to get her in an ice bath and then get her to sleep with a hefty dose of painkillers.
My word the girl had a high pain tolerance. He'd been four or five hits from saying that was enough when she tapped out.
Her legs were still shaky when he parked, so he scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs, setting her down only to let her unlock the doors to the gym and the apartment.
"You still in?" Sam asked the moment they made it through the door. He was pacing in the kitchen carrying an old leather-bound book in a language Ji-a didn't recognize.
"Yeah," Ji-a agreed, "Still in."
"You didn't go easy on her?" Sam asked his brother.
"Scout's honor," Dean replied, "She can hardly walk, man. Isn't that proof enough?"
"Yeah," Sam shook his head as if to clear it, "I guess. You two going to bed?"
Dean gathered Ji-a into his arms again.
"We are," he replied, "And you should too."
"So does the whole not leaving your sight rule count inside my house?" Ji-a asked as Dean pulled her dress over her head and set the shower to its coldest temperature.
"No," Dean said, "But I'd love to get off the couch tonight."
He trailed a line of kisses from just behind her ear to the base of her neck, trying diligently to ignore the feel of scars where she'd been bitten by vampires back in Thailand.
"I think that can be arranged," Ji-a giggled, then winced when it sent lightning bolts of pain up her back and down her legs.
"The cold shower will help," Dean assured her, "I've got some homeopathic stuff we can put on too. I'll get you some pain meds and some tea and meet you in bed. Alright?"
Ji-a nodded, twisting her hair into a braid before she stepped into the freezing water.
Sam was still pacing in the kitchen when Dean went to fetch Aspirin and arnica and chrysanthemum tea for Ji-a.
"You didn't complain, not a single freakin' word, when Jo invited herself to hunt with us without a shred of experience. But you act like bringing Ji-a's the worst idea you've ever heard," Dean said, "What's up with you?"
"We started the apocalypse," Sam replied bluntly, "And you have now decided to keep the hot kickboxing chick you couldn't help but sleep with…"
"Hey!" Dean snapped, "Enough of this. First of all, I got back from literal hell to find you screwing around with a demon. And second, I have never done this before. I have never insisted on bringing along a plaything. What kind of an accusation is that? I'm not some kind of imbecile. Ji-a knows the supernatural. She knows how to fight. She wants to learn to hunt. She asked to come with us. And I'm pretty sure if she heard you talking that way about it she'd smack you upside the head. I'm tempted to do it myself."
Sam sagged against the counter.
"You're right," he agreed, "I'm sorry."
"You had a fair point about making sure she learned the ropes," Dean agreed, "She's strong willed. And the last thing I want to happen is for her to get killed for not listening on a case. But you've got to lay off, man. She's thirty-two years old and she has a PhD and a 7-3 fight record. I'm not bringing a Playboy bunny."
"You're not," Sam said, "I know. I'm worried about everything, man. And I'm sorry I took it out on you two."
"Get some sleep," Dean instructed, picking up the mug of tea and the bottle of pills, "You'll feel better when we're on the road tomorrow. It's freakin' Ohio making you melancholic."