Woah! Two chapters? In as many days? What's going on here!
I feel like I'm falling back into a niche with this story and am gradually nudging the writer's block out of my ass. Plus, I watched "Changing Channels" again last night on a whim and that brought me into the spirit as well.
Please keep favoriting and commenting! I cannot believe there are 1,000 reads on this story. Holy crap. That's crazy that you guys are continuing to read the crap I use to comfort myself. It makes me so so soooooo happy!
Also I bought my Jared and Jensen and a separate Misha meet and greet passes! I also bought a second Jared in case I look ugly in my one with both him and Jensen. What can I say? I'm a Jared and Misha girl but also a Dean and Cas girl. I think I'm going to buy a Rowena and Mark after my next payday, but we'll see! It's in August and I'm already so nervous about what to do it's nauseating. Any ideas on poses at all? I was thinking maybe something with a tiara? Or to try and get both the boys to pretend to beat me up, but I don't know if they'll go for that. They're fairly chivalrous from what I've heard.
Thank you again for reading!! I would love to hear from you all more often! I hope you enjoy this one!!
She sighed and took his hand and let him lead her to the bathroom while she all but dragged her feet on the way there. He patted the sink, an implication for her to sit on the counter like she predicted, while he rifled through the medicine cabinet and produced basic first aid supplies. He set them down beside her and exhaled slowly, his shoulders sinking and head hanging in exhaustion, more mental than physical. He rolled them back and lifted his head up and smiled at her gently. He didn't want her to feel guilty.
"Okay, let's see." He felt a light wave a nausea hit him as he sat on the toilet beside her. What if they truly were bad? Would she want to call Cas? Should he call Sam? Either way, they needed to tell him, but he'd rather take care of it one on one first so she wasn't overwhelmed with attention. Too much love can be too much. He pushed back the nerves and looked up at his little sister, who was pulling off her sweater slowly, apprehensively. He could see her eyes starting to shimmer.
She halted and turned to Dean. "Dean, they really aren't that bad. It was a bobby pin. How much harm can a bobby pin even do, really?" She tried to smile to put him at ease, but all it did was show how terrified she truly was. Her voice was higher, she was going to start crying pretty soon if he didn't just leave her alone. She loudly swallowed in an attempt to shove back tears.
Dean put a hand on her knee. "Hey. No more of that. We're gonna get this done, then go find something to do. Maybe I can convince Sam to find some salt and burn blow off case. No more crying, though. I'm gonna feel like we're on a soap opera here pretty soon."
His casualness put her at ease some. He sounded confident, unconcerned, even though she knew there was no way that's how he felt. She continued pulling off her sweatshirt, the lump still in her throat, until it was a black bundle nestled in her lap. She looked back to Dean, who was pretending to read the wrapper on a band-aid, presumably to give her some privacy and a moment to gather herself. He would be just as kind as Sam. Just as loving, just as brief, and just as professional. This was Dean, her big, big brother, and he loved her and just wanted her safe. There had never been a moment in Casey's life where she had doubted Dean's love for her. Even when Sammy was gone for a year, he made sure she was okay with staying with Lisa and Ben before having them bunk up together. They didn't have anywhere else to go, but if she'd said no she knew he would've figured something else out. He'd always made sure she was okay before, he would make sure she was okay this time too. She rolled up her t-shirt sleeve and quietly said, "Okay."
Dean mentally braced himself before turning to look at Casey's arm. It took a lot of effort to not sigh in relief at what he saw. Sammy had lectured him earlier in the week about how severity of wounds does not equate with severity of pain, and how minimizing one or the other could hurt or invalidate her feelings. Listening to him felt a lot like how he imagined college actually was. But the wounds on Casey's arms weren't nearly as severe as the ones he'd seen previously. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. He chose his words very carefully, keeping what Sam said in mind.
"These shouldn't take very long. We just gotta wash then bandage 'em up, then you should be good to go." He smiled up at her, proud of how calm she was being. She gave him a curt nod and he turned on the water.
She was just as right with Dean as she had been with Sam. He was acting like she'd gotten hurt in a hunt and he was cleaning that up instead. He waited for the water to get warm before wetting a paper towel and putting a little soap on it.
"This might sting a little," he warned, not actually paying attention to what he was saying.
"It's okay." She knew it wouldn't be nearly as bad as the whiskey, although that didn't prevent her from hissing as he started in.
"Sorry," he mumbled. Casey shrugged. She was glad they wouldn't have to call Castiel for this, and she was hoping Dean wouldn't tell him, although she knew he would anyway. He had too much to worry about in Heaven. He didn't need her self-hatred crap coming at him as well.
Every stroke Dean made with the paper towel was calculated. He tried to think of it as if he was cleaning the speakers or motor in Baby, getting the dust and grease out of everything but making sure she was well taken care of at the same time. This was much more important than her though. This was Casey. Casey wouldn't break if he accidentally wiped a little too hard, obviously, but she might become scared. Her first experience getting cleaned up by the boys was bad enough; he didn't need to add another one on the list. It was hard seeing the wounds on Casey and knowing what they were from, but if he focused hard enough he could pretend they were from werewolf claws. Although thankfully they weren't nearly that deep. It didn't take him very long. He worked methodically, going left to right, first with the soap and water, then with the antibiotic cream, and before he realized he found himself tearing open a bandage wrapper. He didn't even remember choosing sizes, but sure enough, in his hand there were two that were half the size of his palm. He opened them very delicately, making sure his fingers didn't touch the adhesive, and pressed each one to his sister's shoulder. He double checked to make sure everything was covered, then looked up at her with a soft smile.
"All good?" he asked.
She nodded once. "All good," she replied and took her brother's hand as she hopped off the counter. She started walking down the hallway to go back to Dean's room when he stopped her.
"Case." His voice had a worried tone to it. She stopped walking. She knew what he was about to say, although she had hoped that if she turned his show back fast enough on he would get distracted. She wasn't in the mood to have another conversation. It was only ten in the morning and she was exhausted.
She spun around on her heel, looking clearly annoyed. "Yeah?"
"We have to tell Sam," he said carefully.
Casey groaned. "Can we tell him tomorrow?" Telling Sam sounded about as pleasant as getting teeth pulled.
"Oh no. I ain't getting my ass chewed for waiting. Come on. He's probably in the library nerding out."
"He's always in the library nerding out...," Casey mumbled, then resumed chewing on her bottom lip as Dean lead the way. The Rules were strict enough as it was, more would probably drive her insane. She hoped Dean was telling the truth about asking Sam about an easy case. Even the salt and burn would feel like heaven. Heaven. Crap. Somebody was going to tell Cas, but it sure as hell wasn't about to be her. If one of them believed he really needed to know, they could do it.
Sure enough, Sam was in the library, nerding out. Casey couldn't tell what book he was reading, although if it was regarding the Knights of Hell or angels she could guarantee that he'd read it before. Sam looked up when he heard the pair enter. He smiled and shut his book, not bothering to mark the page, which confirmed her assumption that he was rereading.
"Hey," he smiled. He sounded truly happy to see them. Casey hadn't seen him all morning. She'd been in Dean's room for it and Sam had no need to go in there after texting Dean to double check her location. He knew she was getting sick of seeing both of their faces together. It was overwhelming. That much fake happy felt like she'd filled her mouth with pure sugar and tried to swallow without anything to drink. Separately, they acted more like their legitimate selves and it was easier to handle. It hurt Casey to know that she was about to burst his bubble when he seemed to be in a good mood. Good moods were rare to come by for him; especially after finding out about Gadreel. Discovering his baby sister hated herself hadn't made happiness any easier to grasp for him either, and he'd already told her how proud he was every day she'd been clean. She was about to break his heart for the billionth time within two weeks.
"Hey, Sammy," she said sadly.
His demeanor changed immediately and he sat up from his slouched position. "What's wrong?" His mouth had gone from a content smile to an unquiet, tight line in about a tenth of a second. Casey looked at Dean, hoping he would say something, but he looked back at her with the same constipated face she had. "Dean?" Sam was restless already and they hadn't been in the room for more than a minute. Patience didn't run in the Winchester bloodline.
Casey sighed and flopped in a chair across from Sam, hard enough to where the plank underneath the seat hurt her butt. She winced, but didn't say anything. She didn't want to draw more attention to herself, she was basically about to give a TED talk about her emotions. She didn't want any more spotlight on her than what was already there.
Dean walked deeper in the room and leaned against a bookshelf. He ran a hand roughly through his hair, a habit all three of them had, and sighed too. "Sammy." Sam raised his eyebrows expectantly when Dean didn't continue speaking right away. Dean sighed again, not looking at his brother. "Sammy. We gotta talk."