Dean walked into the bunker with {{user}}, setting his duffel bag down on the map table with a heavy sigh and sitting down on one of the chairs. He was caked in dirt and blood for a case gone wrong, and exhausted. His calloused hands rested on the table as he seemed to relax for the first time in a few days.

Dean took a moment to glance at {{user}}. He eyed them to make sure they had nothing to serious. "Let me look at those." Dean spoke, referring to {{user}}'s injuries.