Thanks for reading everyone! The last section of this chapter is one of my favorite things I've written for this story so far. Hope you like it! Reviews spark joy :)
Sophie dutifully helped Dean get Sam's shoulder back in the socket. Then immediately excused herself to vomit into the wastebasket. She came back a moment later.
"Need me to help with stitches?" She asked, trying to sound composed.
"If resetting it was gonna freak you out that much you didn't need to help," Sam said apologetically.
"It felt like a necessary continuation of the whole saving your life thing," Sophie shrugged.
"Okay," Dean said, "We all know best treatment for something like this is a lot of rest. I'm gonna stitch these cuts up and then go find us some food. You are going to stay here and sleep. Got it?"
Sam nodded and lay back on the mattress. Dean sterilized his needle with a lighter and got to work. When he was finished he washed his hands and went to the door.
"You're coming," he said brusquely to Sophie, "Remember the bit about not leaving my sight?"
—
"So you read Polish fantasy novels?" Dean asked as he drove into town.
"I do," she said, "I read a lot. I like Eastern European literature. And I speak Polish so there's that."
"You speak Polish?" Dean sounded skeptical.
"My parents were both born there," Sophie replied, "Came over as little kids so I don't have an accent - heck they barely have an accent - but I learned it starting when I was two or three. I'm glad I did. The folklore over there is fantastic."
"And this Leshy," Dean prompted, "Where exactly did you read about that?"
"There's this book series called The Witcher," Sophie said, "he fights a Leshy."
She paused.
"You should read it," she continued, "I'm sure it'll be translated eventually." "Not really a book guy," Dean said.
"No, but you should read this one," Sophie repeated.
"Why?"
"Because I think it's about you," Sophie said.
"Really?"
"Emotionally unavailable monster hunter protecting an overdramatic telekinetic chosen one," Sophie said, "Sound familiar?"
"I'm not emotionally unavailable and Sam has precognition, not telekineses," Dean corrected her.
"You're not unavailable to me or to Sam," Sophie agreed, "But everyone else?"
"Fine," Dean agreed.
"It's about family," Sophie said, "And trying to stay together while fighting evil things in a world that just wants to keep knocking you down."
"Now that does sound familiar," Dean said.
A long moment passed in silence.
"You went all mama bear on that Leshy when it got hold of Sam," Dean said, "Thank you for that. You saved his life. It means a lot."
"You treat him like your kid and me like your wife," Sophie said, "It makes sense there'd be some maternal instinct."
Dean snorted a laugh.
"You ever think about getting married?" He asked, trying to sound casual, "Or are you not the type to settle down?"
"I was engaged," Sophie replied, "Before."
Dean froze.
"What happened?" He asked.
"He died," Sophie said, "He died protecting me from the wendigo."
—
Queen beds were not made for three adults - especially not when one of those adults was as big as Sam.
Dean had never been more acutely aware of this fact.
He'd attempted sleeping next to Sam - hand on his chest. Like Dean always did when his brother was injured. But without the familiar weight of Sophie's head on his shoulder he couldn't relax, couldn't stop worrying about her.
So he'd tried sleeping in bed with Sophie, like they had consistently since her nightmare a few weeks ago. But every sound startled him and every moment of silence made him worry that Sam had stopped breathing.
So a little after one he gave up and here they were, squished in one bed. With Sophie curled up on the left side of his chest and Sam sprawled out to his right, Dean was too hot and couldn't move. But finally, he slept.