"I know, sweetheart, I know it hurts."

Dean chokes out, biting his lip as he stitches up the damn gash in your soft thigh. You let out a pained cry, the whiskey he'd forced you to drink dribbling helplessly down your chin.

"Doin' so damn good for me. Just a couple more. Can you do that for me? Breathe through a couple more?"

Dean pulls his hands away, letting you catch your breath until you were ready for the next stitch. God you were so helpless. So young. So pretty. Dean's heart cracked at the thought of you being in such danger. He'd only been gone an hour and the vamps you'd been hunting had just taken you without warning. Dean should've seen it coming. Should've stopped his pretty girl from gettin' hurt.

"That's it, darlin'. Ready for another?"

Dean asks in a soothing tone he reserved for you and you alone. His green eyes pierce yours, making sure everything was okay before he even dreamed of going forward with another stitch, no matter how badly you needed them. When you give him the nod to go ahead, he finishes the last three stitches as fast as he can and wraps up your thigh in a strong bandage.

"See? Gonna be okay."