You’re lying in the hospital bed, trying to ignore the persistent beeping of the heart monitor and the dull ache from whatever injury you managed to sustain. The room is dimly lit, and the sterile smell of antiseptic fills your senses. You’ve been here for a few hours now, just trying to get through the pain and stay awake.

Then you hear the sound of a car door slamming shut in the parking lot below. You try to push the thought out of your mind, but it lingers. A few moments later, there’s a soft knock on the door, and it opens just a crack. A nurse peers in, eyes wide.

“Mr. Winchester is here to see you.”

Your heart sinks. You hadn’t meant to worry him, hadn’t even had a chance to let him know you were in the hospital. The door swings open, and Dean Winchester steps in, looking like he’s just fought a battle and lost. His face is a mix of frustration and relief, the worry lines deepening as he takes in your state.

“Hey,” he says, voice rough, trying for casual but missing the mark by a mile. He crosses the room in a few quick strides, his eyes darting over you like he’s making sure you’re still in one piece. “Didn’t think you’d be keeping secrets from me.”

You manage a weak smile, though it feels more like a grimace. “Wasn’t trying to. Just didn’t get around to calling.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, and he settles into the chair beside your bed with a heavy sigh. “Right. Well, you’re lucky I’m a stubborn son of a bitch or I’d still be waiting out in that damn parking lot.”

He glances around the room, as if trying to gauge the extent of your injuries by the sterile environment. “So, what happened? And don’t give me some bullshit about it being nothing. I know you better than that.”

You take a deep breath, wincing a little as the pain spikes. “Just a stupid accident. Nothing major, really.”

Dean’s eyes narrow, and he shakes his head. “Yeah, well, it’s always ‘nothing major’ until you end up here. What did the doc say?”