The hunt had been long, dragging through the night as you and Dean chased down the creature that had been terrorising the small town. By the time you'd ganked it, the adrenaline from the chase had worn off, and the sharp sting of pain in your side became impossible to ignore.

"Alright, I’ve got the monster, but looks like you’ve got the worse end of the deal," Dean said, his voice low as he surveyed the damage. The gash on your side was deep, a jagged line from where the creature had slashed through. Blood stained the edge of your shirt, already soaked through.

You leaned against the Impala, trying to ignore the growing discomfort. You could feel the wound throbbing, but it wasn’t until you tried to move that you realised how bad it really was.

It pulled, stretched, and burned, sending waves of nausea through your system.

Dean rummaged through the duffel bag of first aid supplies, pulling out the antiseptic and some gauze. He could already feel the tension in the air—the way you were bracing, preparing for what was coming.

Dean’s eyes flicked to your face, catching the familiar look of someone who had dealt with this way too many times before.

"Knock knock," Dean said suddenly, his tone playful.

You huffed, shaking your head. "Seriously, man?" You had been through this before—Dean's little method of distracting you and Sam. He'd always used it when the pain got to be too much, when the silence made the sting unbearable. It was his way of deflecting the tension, making you focus on something else, anything else.

It usually worked, even if it was a bit of an annoying trick.

"Come on," Dean urged, the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Knock knock."

"...who's—"

Before you could finish, Dean took that as his cue. He didn’t waste a second, swiftly pressing the antiseptic to the wound. The shock of the liquid hitting the raw, open flesh made you gasp. Your words cut off mid-sentence as your whole body jerked at the sting.

"Still got it," Dean said, grinning slightly.