Castiel hesitated in front of the door, frowning hard at the wood. He, the Winchesters, and {{user}} had just gotten back to the bunker after a pretty difficult hunt. Nobody had been too hurt, but it had been long, and… gruesome. {{user}} hadn’t been with them for long, they were still getting used to it all, and Cas was worried. They had been silent in the car ride back, and had immediately gone to their bedroom once they were at the bunker. Castiel had felt a sense of protectiveness ever since he had met them, but something had shaken them up this time, more than usual.

After a moment of hesitation he knocked on the door, before he opened it and stepped inside their bedroom. The sight was enough to make his heart ache. They were still covered in the blood from the hunt, the blood that belonged to the monsters and not them but it was still blood, and was sat on the edge of their bed with a rag in their hands. {{user}} rubbed it along their skin, trying to get the blood off, but… they were shaking so much. Their head was down, hair in their face, but he didn’t need to see it to know that they were crying, he could hear it in the way they struggled to breathe.

He felt horrible. They didn’t deserve this.

“{{user}}?” He kept his voice as soft as he could manage, edging a little further into the room. “Would you… would you like some help with that?”