Six Moments [ON HOLD]

|Moment 1|

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"I'll get the bags." Castiel declared as he stood before the trunk, his troubled eyes scanning his hunched figure. "So, you can already go to the room."

"Thanks, buddy." Dean forced through gritted teeth before spinning on his heels and heading towards their room.

The boys were just finished with another hunt, one of the rare ones without Sam, since he still needed to recover from their previous hunt.

Dean and Castiel had found the vampire nest very quickly and were about almost finished with beheading the group of vampires, before Dean got hit by an enranged vampire when he wasn't paying attention to his left.

That bitch, He thought when he felt another stab in his lower abdomen.

He held a hand on his side as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He leaned against the wall and maneuvered the key above its lock, his shoulder killing him as he turned the key.

Kicking the door of the room open, he limped inside, not having enough energy to close the damn door behind him. He painstakingly lowered himself on his bed, a sigh leaving his lips when he felt the soft mattress under his bottom.

A few moments later, Castiel entered the room, kicking the door behind him with his foot, and placed the duffel bags on the table.

He turned towards his friend on the bed, his eyes noting his busted lip, the curved cut on his temple and his shoulder that was angled in the wrong way. He frowned as he eyed his ensanguined shirt, the awful stench of blood filling his nose.

"Well, then." He started, "Let's get you treated."

"You don't have to patch me up, Cas. I can do it by myself." He protested, already trying to get off the bed, but his stomach had another plan since it stroke him with another blow.

"Clearly, you cannot." Castiel stated firmly after he heard his pained groan. "So, don't move and wait."

"But, Ca—" He was about to object but stopped when he felt Castiel's hands on his own. Dean lifted his head, not expecting his face to be less than a few inches away.

"Dean, just this ones, be quiet and let someone else take care of you." He pleaded with his eyes as he stared at him.

Dean stayed quiet.

It wasn't that he wanted to act like a stubborn dick towards Castiel, who was only trying to help. He merely wasn't accustomed to someone beside his little brother fussing over him. Furthermore, he was usually the one who took care of someone else not the other way around.

"Dean?"

He nodded his head tentatively. "Okay."

"Good." Castiel squeezed his hands one last time before standing up and walking to the table.

Dean ignored the warmth that Castiel's touch left on his hands.

The ex-angel zipped the nearest duffle bag open and rummaged through their clothes for the first aid kit. A smile rose to his lips when he found the box and grabbed it with his hand.

Castiel returned to Dean's side and knelt before him, placing the first aid kit on the ground beside him. He opened the kit and pulled out all the essential tools he needed to make Dean back to his old self.