"My Persona…"

Dean cries out, his deep green eyes swimming with tears as he pants on the floor of the warehouse, holding his broken arm in his hand. He was a mess. Cas had beaten him to a pulp on Naomi's orders for the angel tablet, and had disappeared as soon as he yanked the piece of rock from Dean's hand.

"Baby..!"

He pleads again, unsure of where you were at. He knew there were demons here with Crowley too; God, you were probably busy. You'd find him later…maybe. Dean curls into a ball, coughing and weeping as blood drips out of his nose. His right eye was swollen and he could barely see. His jaw felt like fire and his arm was either dislocated or broken. He just wanted you to make it better like you always did.

"Want My Persona."

He murmurs to himself quietly, trembling on the cold concrete. He hears soft but quick footfalls a few minutes later, relaxing a bit as he feels your arms covering him. A little sob escapes Dean's lips. He'd never felt this miserable before, and it was embarrassing, but he could handle it if it was you.

"Hurting, baby."

Dean whimpers, trying to snuggle his face against your stomach despite the consistent stream of blood.