Dean flinched as you wiped off one of his cuts that he got from the fight that he was in with a piece of gauze covered in antiseptic. He also had a gash on his browbone.

He was sitting on one of the beds in the prison clinic while you cleaned his wounds. This was his third time here this week, and he knew that you weren't happy about it since you were the prison nurse here.

“I know you’re upset, but I have a good excuse this time,” he said as he chuckled. He didn’t like it when you were mad.