Random x Male Reader

Dean Winchester | The Winchester Way of Healing

It was weird how you could already tell them apart by how they took their steps, even though you've only been actively living here for a couple of months.
So before Dean would gently knock at your door and ask if he could come in, you took a moment to just close your eyes, because you were just so goddamn exhausted.
It helped that you already knew who was going to enter.

"Come in", you answered.

"Hey", he spoke softly, knowing how you had to be feeling.

"Hi."

Dean sat down on the side of your bed.
"How's the head?"

"Bad. But not as bad as the wound."

"Want me to close the door?", he quickly asked once he noticed you pressing the heel of your palms against your eyes, an attempt to make the pulsating pain go away, that got stronger with the way too bright light flooding the room.

You grumbled a pathetic noise of agreement.

"I'm not really good at this, y'know", Dean admitted as he sat down again.

"At what?", you groaned, the fucking aches just wouldn't stop.

"The whole", he waved his hand helplessly, as if he wanted to swat a fly, "comforting or whatever."

"It's fine", you breathed deeply and closed your eyes again, trying to ignore the pain. It just happened sometimes. You weren't new to the hunting business, sometimes things just go south and it isn't anyone's fault.

He laid a tentative hand on your blanket covered shin, obviously trying his best to offer some kind of comfort.

"Fuck, Dean. I'm cold."
He must've seen the cold sweat by now.
Even underneath the thick blanket you trembled with shivers.

"Right. Cold. I'll be right back", he jumped up and hurried... somewhere. You really couldn't care less as long as he got back with something to ease your misery.
Light headed your head lolled to the side, just gaining unconciousness would be pretty nice right now. But the pain was too severe to even think about falling asleep.

When you thought your head was about to explode and you were literally chanting "iwanttodie" in your head like a mantra, Dean returned with another two blankets, a steaming cup and a wet cloth. Maybe you were being a bit of a drama queen, but you'd let it slip for now. The hunt had really fucked you in the ass.
You hated that he had to do this for you, but you already felt a bit better after he'd tucket you into the three blankets now. Even though technically they haven't even helped with the cold yet.

Then he began to dab at your forehead with the warm cloth, getting both rid of your sweat and the cold.

"My mom, when I was little, used to help with my headaches. If you want, I could...", Dean trailed off, leaving the offer hanging in the room.

You'd take anything if it meant just a little relief.

"Then I gotta get behind you. Can you move?"

"Fuck", you huffed, trying to shuffle around and make room for Dean.
Carefully he managed to sit behind you, leaning against the headboard and with cautious hands he maneuvered your head into his lap as he saw fit for his methods.

"She used to start out by going through my hair", you appreciated Dean telling you what he would do next. Somewhere in the back of your mind you also noted how gentle he spoke and how heavy his voice sounded with the memories of his mom.

"Then she'd add a little pressure", and fuck that was good. So good. You couldn't help the little groan of relief, but Dean mistook it as even more pain inflicted by him and immediately stopped, pulling his hands away.

Before he could even bring out any kind of apology you hurried to get him back to what he was doing.
"No, no. Please. That's... it's good. Don't stop."

You heard him exhale quietly, probably glad he didn't mess up and picked up right where he left off.
After a couple of moments he moved to your temples, just gently massaging them, with just the right amount of pressure. It was ridiculous how much better the aches were already. You've long stopped trying to hold in any sighs or groans because frankly you kind of started to bliss out, the exhaustion of the hunt finally being able to set it after the pain kept fading because of Dean and his hands were really just doing their part.

You didn't even notice when you slipped over from snoozing into proper sleep. Only when you woke up you well.. grew aware of having fallen asleep.
Dean was still behind you, though while both of you had been sleeping he had kind of moved into a more horizontal than vertical position, so he was almost laying beside you.

He was warm and comfy, so you didn't even really think about it when you shuffled further to the side with some grunts and huffs, the wound was still pretty bad- contrary to your head.
Dean finally looked like he was in a more comfortable position and you shamelessly scooted back into his space, where it was warm and comfortable and safe and since yesterday (today? how long have you been sleeping for?) it also meant less pain.

The next time you woke up Dean was already lightly massaging your temples again.
In that utter waking-up-after-an-amazing-sleep-bliss you let out a soft groan and tried to stretch as far as your injury would let you.
His response was the faintest chuckle, then after a moment he added, "I know it's nothing like Cas' healing, but... I don't know. Maybe this is the Winchester's own healing ability or something."

You couldn't help the small snort that escaped you, because that was really just ridicoulus. Still, you leaned further into his touch, encouraging him to add a little more pressure.

"You still cold?", he asked after a while.

"Nope", you popped the p and scooted closer. "Must be connected to the Winchester healing abilities", you quipped in a tone that let him know you were barely surpressing a grin.