Dean let out a bit of a shriek as the spirit grabbed him by the throat again, shoving the back of his head into the ground as he fell. It pushed harder than he had ever felt, putting pressure on his skull as he groaned. As he attempted to swing his chain at her, she stomped on his wrist, showing that she was stronger than almost any ghost he had ever fought. Just as his lights started to go out, he heard Mika’s voice again, and the ghost flamed out, screaming.

Taking a loud and deep breath, he regained most of his conciousness, staring up at the dripping ceiling of the cavern. Bringing a hand up to his throat, he gritted his teeth and groaned, realizing he was alive. He then heard Mika’s voice again, and realized she may need help. The realization caused him to quickly sit up and bring himself to a staggering stand on his feet.

“Ya think?!”, he asked her, not realizing she was referring to an injury, at first. He finally caught a glimpse of her, sitting on the ground and his eyes turned into saucers, “Shit, Mika!”

He ran to her, sliding and falling on his ass near her. He finished crawling to close the gap between them, taking her injured leg into his hands with a groan.

“You have any idea how to get out of here? We need to get this patched up fast…”, he gasped, quickly pulling his jacket off, and then his t-shirt over his head. He used the t-shirt to press against her leg, hissing at how bad it must have hurt, “Hold this here…”

He then wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, before shoving his arms under her legs and around her waist and standing with her. His own body felt broken, but they had to get out of here, and he refused to lose her again.

“Just tell me where to go…”

Mika knew she had must have injured her leg when she quite literally fell through the cavern ceiling earlier, but she never realised it was quite as bad it was. A fully blown open gash wound a good eight inches down her calf. Not only that she was partially certain that she had done some kind of damage to her ankle as she fel at such a bad angle, there was no way she would be able to drive back to Souix Falls tonight, not in this state and from the way Dean got beat by the ghost, it was clear to her that he wouldn't be able to focus on driving either.

When he skidded down to her level and finally saw her leg injury, she just gave him a shrug "I think I fucked up..." she winced with a half snigger, as she tried not to let the pain finally get through to her. "I'm not sure..I'm hoping some exit at the other end there" she replied, nudging her head to in front of her. "I didn't really get a chance to spot an exit after I fell through the bloody ceiling" she told him hissing and hitching her shoulders up as he pressed his tshirt against her leg. She nodded and did as he told her to, pressing his shirt firmly against her leg.

"Try straight forward...there has to be another way out of here that's not however you got in here" she told him, trying to hold onto his shirt on her leg with one hand, and onto him with the other as she knew if she had to walk, she would slow them both down even more. "We gotta get our stuff though" she reminded him, knowing at least her bag was still laying around. She didn't say anything but truth was, she was actually scared for the first time in a long time on this case. She was convinced she was going to lose Dean until she managed to kill the spirit just in time. Her leg hurt so damn much and by this point, tears from the pain did infact start to fall down her cheeks as she leaned into him more.

Dean shushed her, turning as she spoke and jogging with her in his arms, back to where her bag had fallen. He had remembered seeing it when he finally found her. With a rough grunt, he dipped, not letting her go, and grabbed the straps of the bag. He hoisted it around his shoulder and straightened himself with another groan. He was in a bit of pain, himself but he wasn’t sure exactly what was hurting his back. Right now, he had a mission.

As he followed her instructions on where to check for a way out, he spied his bag, still zipped and lying against the small wall. Sighing, he ran over to it as well, going through the same painful motions and throwing it around the shoulder on top of her bag.

“You’re fine. You’re going to be fine. I don’t want to hear you talk like that, you hear me?”, he finally spoke, referring to her saying she was the one who messed everything up. He clenched her tightly, and closed his eyes, feeling the air flowing through the cavern, “It’s this way…”

He whispered the last words, turning to his right and running through a tight tunnel. He hugged her a bit tighter to his chest as he did, realizing that he was getting extremely winded, and his back was screaming at him. It wasn’t something he normally paid much attention to during hunts, but couldn’t take his mind off, this time. They were both injured, but she was bleeding badly. Huffing, he finally reached the dark open air and stopped as he reached the entrance to the cavern, finding it surprisingly open. He was just as surprised that he recognized most of their surroundings, once he walked out of the cavern a little further, and not far to their left was Mika’s car.

“Hey…silver lining. You parked the getaway car, right next to the cavern. Who would have thunk?”, he joked, attempting to keep her calm as he walked quickly through the wet gravel, closing the last few meters between them and the car. He quickly used his free hand to shakily open the car door, and sat her down in the passenger seat, realizing in the interior light just how much blood was on his hands. He carefully placed her legs in, raising the injured one up onto the dash, “Keep this up here…It’ll help with the bleeding. Hey…everything is fine.”

As he finished his sentence, he reached down and cupped her chin, leaning in to give her a small kiss. He pulled away with his eyes pressed closed tightly, showing his worry and then huffed and ran around to the drivers side. Starting the car with a loud rumble, he peeled out of the gravel, his free hand on Mika’s thigh.

“Just talk to me…”

She hated that she had become so useless in helping getting them both out of the damn place. If their bags didn't have so much equipment in them, she would have insisted on putting at least one in her lap as she could tell he was in pain himself each time he bent down to grab their bags as he spotted them whilst refusing to let her go in the process.

She nodded against his chest as he told her not speak in such ways even though she truly felt she did mess things up. If she hadn't been so focused on taking photos of what they saw and actually kept an eye on behind them instead, maybe, just maybe she would have been yanked backwards and through a floor that shouldn't have even have had a trap door in it. Shhe still didn't understand how she dropped through when there was no obvious sign of a hole in the cavern ceiling. It made no sense to her and she honestly knew she'd be pondering how anything happened in that house for a while.

Feeling the cold night air hit them as he found the exit she sighed with relief they were finally out, but she couldn't help but wonder what poor sods were still possibly trapped in there from the kids that house killed. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she made herself compute what he said and seeing her car, it dawned on her what he said. "at least that's something" she replied, glad to see her beloved car again and still in one piece.

She just hoped her bloody leg didn't possibly coax anything else out of the darkness as he got them to the car, unlocked it and got her in the passenger side. She let him guide her injured leg up onto the dash, normally never agreeing with such an action but this instance she most definitely agreed with it. She kissed him back keeping her own eyes closed before opening them, using her free hand to wipe her cheeks as he went round to the driver's side. 'this is the last time I'm doing a ghost hunt for a while...especially if Bobby says it's simple' she thought to herself.

"remind me to say no if Bobby says he wants me on a simple ghost job please" she half smirked, trying so hard to not focus on the steering pain. Seeing for herself just how bad her injury was, knowing Dean would have to either patch her up himself or get her to hospital. The latter she would very much rather not be a option. "how you holding up?" she asked him, leaning her head back despite not really having a head rest at all. Her hands beginning to shake from the blood loss, making her needing to try and gain more motivation to keep the pressure on.

Dean sighed in relief as she started speaking to him. He was driving as fast as he could down the empty road they had used to come in, and had no idea what time it was. But the road was completely empty. He cleared his throat, to try and clear any signs of stress away from his voice, “I second that. These hunts are hunts he should be coming on with us, if he’s so eager to send us. I’ll have words with him when we find somewhere to stay, trust me…”

As he trailed off, he noticed she asked how he was doing. He flexed his shoulders, realizing that when he did so, the pain seared across and up to his neck. Reaching a hand back, he pressed a hand flat to the back of his head and brought it around to look at it in the dim lighting of the car. It should have been surprising, but honestly wasn’t, that his hand was covered in blood.

“I’m fine. We need to worry about that leg, first…”, he muttered, wiping the blood on his jeans and taking the wheel with both hands again. A roadside motel, their usually choice, came into view as they entered the nearby city outskirts. Without hesitation, he whipped the car into the parking lot and screeched the tires to a stop, internally cringing after he did so. He wasn’t used to driving carefully.
Without saying much else, he stepped out of the car, and sprinted with a pained expression toward the office. The woman at the desk jumped and looked him over with large eyes at the sight of his wet hair, and scraped up bare chest. Looking down at his appearance, he gave her a sheepish smile.

“Um…I know I look rough, but I spilled food all over myself in my car. So, I need somewhere to shower.”, he started explaining, relieved that she seemed to relax a bit, albeit staring a bit more now that she found him less threatening. She gave him a nod and turned to her computer, while holding her hand out, “Oh…yeah…”

He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, frowning at how wet it was. Luckily, his cards were pretty much waterproof. He pulled one of them, and handed it to her. Within a few minutes, she tossed a key across the counter and went back to her magazine. Smiling thankfully, Dean patted the counter and ran back out to the car, opening Mika’s side.

“I got you right up front…”, he smiled, making another joke to make sure she was calm, “So, I don’t have to carry you far…”

He then helped her turn to where he could pick her up again, and hoisted her with a loud grunt, walking quickly to the first room in front of the car. He opened the door as best he could with one hand, and pushed it open, not hesitating to walk her over to the nearest bed. He sat her down and stood up straight with a pained groan.

Any other time she would have disagreed with Dean about having Bobby coming with them, mostly because she was selfish and always scared about losing him on a hunt, but in this instance after getting one of the worst injuries she had endured for a long time, she knew Bobby should have been with them. It could have gone so much worse for either one of them or both of them if they weren't so quick in thinking and she was lucky to be have thrown into the water and almost drowned near the remains they needed.

She looked over at him when he reached a hand up to behind his head and lowered it again to reveal how much he was bleeding and she frowned, now feeling all the more worried about him rather han herself. "just don't pass out on me" she told him as he kept driving, thankful that there was no speed monitoring cops around to make him stop.

To say she was relieved when they saw the motel they usually got when in Minnesota, she internally sighed with relief but also knew if they weren't focusing on their injuries, all kind sof bad thoughts and memories would come flooding back to the both of them. His swerving into the parking lot made her wince and hiss as he came to an abrupt stop, making her jolt in her seat. She didn't even have time to complain about his driving as he had already bolted out the car and headed to the reception to get them a room. She felt the blood soaking right through his shirt at the stage and she was feeling far too light headed from the blood loss, "stay awake woman..just a bit longer" she muttered to herself as her eyes began to see light spots, the sure sign of being close to passing out.

She barely could focus on anything and wasn't even aware of how long or short Dean was away for until he got back, opened her door and helped her out, grabbing hold of her again. "good because I don't know how much longer I can stay conscious..." she replied, her tone almost starting to slur and to her, sound echo-y. The world was spinning as he got her to the room, laying her on the bed. "Dean I..." she slurred, wanting to just close her eyes and her hands starting to falter on keeping his shirt on her leg, one hand already slipping off her leg.

Dean shook himself out of his own pain, shaking his head and slapping his face when he noticed how badly her words were slurring. He dipped to sit on the floor beside her on the bed and reached up to grab her face in both his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey…You’re going to be fine. Look at me…”, he sighed, patting her cheeks lightly. He reached his left hand down and moved hers out of the way, to hold the t-shirt to her leg tightly. It was then that he realized he didn’t have any supplies to patch her up. Bringing a now bloody hand up to pinch his eyebrow, he thought about his next moves, as he had never had to do this on his own.

He stood, and quickly ran over to the small table that was in the room, grabbing one of the chairs on a hunch. He brought it back to the bed and sat it on top of the mattress. He then removed his shirt from her leg and gently unscrunched it, before tying it around her leg tightly with a slight hiss. Lifting the leg, he placed it on the chair for elevation and turned to her, taking her face again, “Mika. Hey…I need you to stay awake. I need you to…I need to go to the car and grab some things. You gotta stay awake. Sing a song, anything.”

He patted her face, still ignoring his own pain as he took a chance and climbed off the bed, sprinting back out the door to the car. When he arrived at the trunk, he popped it open, and rummaged through his bag, his hands shaking. He stopped for a second and closed his eyes, his teeth gritted at how dire the situation possibly was, but he wasn’t going to let her down again…

Finding the army field medic kit his dad made him carry and a bottle of vodka, he quickly closed the trunk and sprinted back to the room, where the door was still hanging open.

“Hey. Listen to me, sweetheart. Let’s get this stitched up. I need you to stick with me…”, he stammered out, sniffling as his shaky hands fumbled with the zipper on the bag. He laid it out on the bed and took a deep breath, before reaching for the waistband of her pants. He knew that cutting them would be hard, at this point, with only bandage scissors. So, he pulled them gently down her legs, struggling a bit with the material, especially when it came to the area around the wound. He was forced to remove the t-shirt and peel the pants off her legs, finally arriving at her boots. He looked up at her and smiled, trying to keep himself calm as much as her, “Any other day, you’d like this…”

Pulling her boots from her feet, he managed to get her pants the rest of the way off, and lowered the damaged leg to the bed. He was pleased that it had almost stopped bleeding, which usually could be a good thing or a bad thing.

Finding a clean section of the t-shirt she had been holding (which surprised him), he tore it off, holding it in one hand while he unscrewed the vodka with the other, turning it on its side and bathing her wound with it. He hissed at how badly it must have hurt, but was also pleased with the fact that she would probably be more alert, he always was.

“There we go. See…not bad.”, he whispered to her, patting the area around the wound to clean the blood from the outside, and allow him to see better, “Talk to me for this next part. I need you awake, but it’s gonna suck. I’m not going to lie to you, babe…”

As he spoke, he began unpacking bandages and a long curved needle that was already threaded.

As he patted her cheeks lightly but enough to alert her to him, she forced herself to keep her eyes open, even though it was incredibly difficult. She didn't feel like she was dying, but she did feel her whole body needing to just shut down to try and recover itself. She looked at him when he told her to, trying to keep the fight going so she wouldn't have to end up in hospital as that's the last thing they really needed right now. Seeing him clear in thought at what to do, she was about to say there'd be medic kits in her car when it seemed he had gotten an idea, where she watched him take the chair, balance it on the bed above her and then remove his shirt to tie it tightly round her wound, making her gasp and grit her teeth as she screamed lowly from the pain.

She nodded at his instructions, "okay..okay" she stammered back at him, trying to stabilise her breathing as it got more and more ragged. As he left the room to head to the car, she lifted one hand and placed her hand over her face to try and stop the tears from falling down her face, only for it not to work in the slightest. "come on girl...you can get through this....you didn't survive a wendigo attack to go out like this" she told herself, trying to motivate herself greatly. "you just got yourself back and Dean...dont fail both of you now" she kept muttering to herself until Dean got back in the room.

"I'm with you, I'm with you" she kept saying to him, helping as best she could as he fumbled with her pants to get them off before smirking and sniggering at his teasing comment. "you know me too well" she slurred back at him, as he managed to get out of her pants and boots before grabbing the vodka and tearing the only clean bit of t-shirt off to use.

The moment the vodka soaked rag touched her wound she gritted her teeth through her screaming and hissing, her fingers clenching in the bed covers tightly. She knew it would hurt but she didn't think it could this much. At his little quip she gave a sarcastic laugh, "like hell it wasn't too bad" she cursed at him, even if it did make her more alert, knowing though that the worst part was to come next.

Doing deep slow breaths she looked at him and gave a single curt nod, "I... I know, just, just do it." she told him back, leaning her head back into the pillow so she didn't have to watch him stitch her back up. "I never realised how glad I was for being out cold when Bobby had to deal with my back.... Until now" she quipped, trying her hardest to ramble any old crap just to stay with him.

Nodding at Mika, Dean placed the gauze in his hand against the sides of the wound, pulling the open sides together as he approached with the needle. He smiled brightly at her joke about her back, and nodded once again, pushing the needle into the first side of the wound, “Yeah. Compared to how Bobby described your back, this should be nothing…aside from you being awake. But hey! Battle scars and a story to tell. Right?”

He joked with her as best he could, trying to calm his own nerves as he tied off the first stitch and moved to the next. He chuckled at his thoughts and tied off a second stitch, happy that at least the wound seemed to be coming together without much effort.

“You remember the time I had to have stitches across my nose, because a certain someone can’t hold their liquor….and pushed me off that deck in Muskogee?”, he asked her with a bright smile covering his nerves, “Dad was so mad. I was out for like two weeks because of that…”

He laughed, finishing up the halfway point of her stitches. He took a deep breath, and glanced up at her face, “How you doing?”

Seeing Dean find the amusing side to what she said about her back was of a relief, as she felt like her chatting random shit was not only helping her staying conscious, but also helping Dean as well. "Not sure who I'd tell those stories to" she quipped back at him. It wasn't like they were anywhere near old enough to have talks of their future and she mostcertainly never wanted kids when this life. Kids and the hunting life was far too dangerous and although many kids were brought into this life, Dean included, she didn't agree with it in the slightest.

She did find herself gritting her teeth tightly shut and wincing as he pushed the sides of her wound together to make it easier for beginning the stitching process. The moment he pierced her skin with the needle, her breath hitched glancing round for the vodka bottle, which was luckily in her arm's reach and made a grab for it, taking a swig when she felt she could. If she was going to get through this, she was going to need alcohol, even if it may not have been the smartest idea.

She was however thankful that he wasn't being a heavy handed butcher when it came to fixing her leg and although it hurt like an utter bitch to her, it was somehow doable. She scoffed a snigger and smirked when he brought up the memory of when she pushed him. "Yeesh yeah, not one of my finest moments I must admit" she replied, "I did actually feel bad about that when I sobered up. Good job I can handle my liquor better now" she added.

As he kept going, she still felt a bit light headed, but she was starting to feel like she was a bit more with it, even if she didn't feel great still. "Not great...but okay" she said back to him when he asked about she was coping. "just, just promise me you'll sort yourself out after this" she requested of him, still worried about his head injury. "I'm not surviving this to go and lose you" she firmly told him, taking another swig of the vodka, feeling the burn in the back of her throat. Vodka was never her favourite spirit to drink but right now it was the closest one to hand.

Dean laughed with her about the situation that led to one of the biggest fights he had ever had with John, which was a good memory for him, despite the stitches. He was just glad to see her smile, and hear her attempt to laugh. It meant she was cognizant and awake enough to hopefully not die on him.

He sighed heavily as she answered him about her state of mind, knowing that it was best to just get this done, so he could get her some iron and something to drink. Having a thought hit him, he placed the gauze over the rest of the wound, and stretched with a groan to grab the phone, calling the desk.

“Front Desk.”, the woman answered on the other end.

“Hello, Sweetheart. This is James from room 214…”, Dean started, causing the woman on the other end to speak up about how nice he was, and asked if he wanted to spend time with her, “Not quite…at least not right now, beautiful. But look, I have a crisp hundred dollar bill for you, if you can go grab me a few bottles of water, some iron pills, annnnnnd maybe a salad shaker, dressing on the side?”

He smiled and listened to the woman gush over him, and confirm that she would do it, but just for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a few, okay? Knock before you come in. I wanna make sure I’m decent.”, he joked with her, and then sat the phone back on the receiver. He turned back to the wound, starting back on the stitches, and smirked over at Mika briefly, still attempting not to address her concerns about him checking himself over. He finally decided to say something.

“I’ll, um…I’ll figure it out. Let’s just get you patched up. I will need someone to look at my back, alright?”, he muttered, tying off one of the final few stitches.

Mika was honestly surprised that Dean wasn't even stopping her from swigging back the vodka, but she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as he paused his patching up of her to call the receiptionist and seemingly to be flirting with the woman on the other end. If she wasn't in pain and feeling like utter crap she would have probably given him a bit crap for doing such a thing in front of her, but if it meant he got what he needed for her, from this woman then quite frankly she was feeling too crap to give a damn. At the mention of him wanting to make sure he wasdecent before the woman showed, Mika had to roll her eyes at his words.

Glad that that phone call was over, she kept staring at him partially judgy but mostly just to keep her eyesight focused on something. She couldn't stare up at the ceiling for much longer and with the vodka well and truly starting to hit her quicker than it would do if she wasn't so heavily injured, she needed to focus on something that wasn't a plain ceiling. "I'll check you over after, I promise" she replied to him, wincing as he tied off one of the last stitches, glad that he was getting near the end of it.

"Please say you're nearly done..." she complained, just wanting it to be over now as she hated having to be so still and a 'good patient' when every part of her was wanting to flinch her leg away as he pulled the needle through. "You realise when we tell Bobby this it's gonna be the most frustrating talk ever to have" she pointed out, even though this time it would be them wanting to scold Bobby and not the other way round.

“I am done with the stitches…I just gotta bandage you up. Hold still for a few more seconds.”, he answered her, smiling gently at her. He then shrugged his shoulder at her concern about telling Bobby the news, “Well, it was his idea for us to come. So, it’s not like he can defend much. I definitely want to remind him that there’s no such thing as an ‘easy hunt’, after this…”

Dean took the vodka from her hand gently, bringing it down to her leg and pouring it over the new stitches for an extra protection. He sighed heavily and wiped his brow, happy to be done. He ripped open a roll of gauze and slowly wrapped it around her leg, making sure it was tight, but not tight enough to hurt them. Once finished, he taped it down, and cut the bandage, patting her on the foot.

“There. All better…”, he muttered, taking a drink of the vodka, himself. A knock at the door surprised him a bit, and he stood from the bed, trying not to move the mattress too much as he did so, and walked over to answer the door.

As soon as he opened it, the woman from the front desk met him with a warm smile, still staring at the fact that he was shirtless. He leaned an arm over his head, and against the doorframe as she held out the bag of supplies he had asked her for. He smiled brightly at her.

“Thank you, lovely lady. Let me…”, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket again, whipping it open and pulling out the least wet hundred dollar bill he had. As he handed it to her, she brushed her hand down his arm, starting at his elbow and ending at his hand, taking the money from him. He raised his eyebrows at her as she slipped the bill into her bra with a smile, “You have a good night, alright?”

He turned from the door, hearing a loud gasp from the woman as he turned his back to her, and closed the door. He furrowed his brow, recognizing the tone of that gasp as her seeing something she was terrified of. He simply shrugged it off and returned to the bed.

“Let’s sit you up and get some stuff down you.”, he smiled down at Mika, putting the bag on the end table and pulling the iron pills and a water from inside. He shook the pills at her and sat down beside her, opening the bottle and pouring two into his hand. He then unscrewed the lid of the water and held both hands out to her.

Mika nodded, glad that it was almost over finally. She was always an awful patient when it came to others patching her up, and she was honestly rather amazed that she had managed to stay still and not complain this time round. She was convinced if she didn't think she was going to pass out every five minutes as he patched her up, then she wouldn't have been nearly as patient and still for him. She knew in the past she had been a lot more troublesome for him to patch up and those wounds were scrapes in comparison to this leg injury. "Damn straight. I swear if I never do a ghost hunt again it'll be too soon" she said back to him.

When he did the guaze and wrapped it round her leg tightly, she silently hissed, flinching ever so slightly. "Thanks handsome" she replied when he told her that he was all done and patted her foot. She quickly looked up and toward the door when there was a knock on it, not expecting to hear such a knock so soon. She remained on the bed when the receptionist handed Dean the bag of stuff they both needed, but the moment she saw the woman's hand drift down Dean's arm and her openly flirting with him, she gritted her teeth and oractically growled in annoyance quietly to herself. SHe also noticed that he had some of the concrete pebbels in his back from the hunt and knew she'd need to get it all out.

"If I didn't a screwed up leg right now..." she muttered under her breath as she watched Dean just seemingly letting the girl touch him up. She didn't know who was more lucky that she was mostly hidden behind the door, herself or the receptionist. Oh she wanted to make a point so badly, and as he went to turn round, turning his back to the woman to close the door she couldn't resist talking louder than necessary, "Oh hubby!! You done at the door yet!?" she called out as if she was in another part of the room, putting on her most flirtatious tone she could muster whilst she mentally fought through the pain she was in. Sure it was utterly childish and pathetic but she couldn't help it, especially as the woman gasped at the sight of his back. She wasn't prepared to be a secret of his to people any longer.

With the door finally closed and they were back in peace once more, she smiled a bit more as she slowly and as carefully as possible, sat herself up on the bed a bit more wincing as she did so. She let him almost baby her as he shook the iron tablet bottle at her, then opened it to take two out and open the bottle for her also. With both now accessible, she took the pills, put them in her mouth and then took the bottle from his other hand and took a large gulp of water swallowing the iron pills. SHe decided to keep up the childish behaviour and opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out, "ahh" she said, showing they did infact be taken and not hidden under her tongue.

"There, now let me deal with your back please, you got stones stuck in it, they need removing" she told him.

As Dean turned from the door and Mika made her comment to the poor receptionist, he gave her a look, shaking his head. He knew she could be possessive, but he also knew that she knew better than to think he would attempt some random hookup while she was down. He turned his frown into a smile, “You really have to…don’t you?”

He rolled his eyes once again, when she showed him that she had swallowed the pills, snatching the bag off the bed beside her. Inside the bag was a salad for her, which he pulled out and sat on the table beside her, before she had a chance to mention his back. When she did mention his back, however, his eyes lit up in terror, at the idea of her performing some sort of surgery on him.

“What?! It’s just a scratch, right?! There’s no way you’re digging in to my back…how bad is it?”, he asked, genuinely afraid that he had some sort of giant brick sticking out of the painful area of his back. He knew his head was in rough shape, as he still felt a drip of blood fall every now and then. Turning his back to her, he reached a hand up to his head, while he let her look over his back problem.

“How bad is it?”, he asked, shuddering at the idea that something could be sticking out of his skin, and he never even noticed it. It must have been the adrenaline. The back of his head was swollen to his touch, which caused him to wince and groan a bit. It seemed like it was just a small hole, which made him happy. There wasn’t much that could be done for that, other than to stop the bleeding.

Dean she always trusted, other women she didn't. She knew she was being childish and she knew he would call her out on it, which he very much did as he closed the door. "what? I'm delirious from bloodless, I can't control what I say" she bullshitted with a smirk and a shrug.

She saw the salad and was thankful for the food, but right now she was more concerned with his back and head than she was her stomach. Seeing the terror in his eyes at the idea of her doing anything to him almost made her feel insulted but she didn't let it show. "it's like when your kid when you get grit in a scrape. It's not too bad, but if we don't clean it off you it won't heal properly and get infected. And you should have more trust in me mister" she explained to him.

She reached over for his medic kit and pulled out the tweezers and some medical grade patches so she could use one to to gather the small stones and keep the tweezers clean. She also grabbed the vodka which she used to disinfect the tweezers. "stay still because I can't twist and turn as much at the moment" she told him, as she grabbed some of the wipes and pads to wipe down his back to make sure it wasn't any worse than it looked, which it wasn't then began to lightly and carefully pick the stones out of his back.

"after this, we can deal with your head to help it stop bleeding. I really thought I was about to lose you know" she spoke up, finally opening up about how she felt when she saw him being slammed into the ground.

Dean knew he was acting like a baby, but he nodded his head and took a deep breath. He could handle almost any wound, but things being stuck in his body, and having to be removed after they had dried was one of his biggest fears. Luckily, he had mostly been able to avoid being shot, or ending up with those sorts of wounds, until now.

He felt her wiping his back and his body instantly tensed, but he stayed as still as he could, knowing that flinching or moving around would only make it worse, and could also make her pull some of his stitches, “I hate this type of injury, man…”

He spoke the words as if it was Sam patching him up, as he was most used to. Sam was surprisingly a good little doctor, and primarily, John really only ever let him stay back at the hotel and patch them up when he was younger. Her hands were much gentler than Sam’s, though, as she picked at the pebbles. Even so, he gritted his teeth and groaned.

When she mentioned his head, he nodded, but narrowed his eyes and almost spun around when she mentioned that she had been afraid she was going to lose him. He laughed, wincing at the pain in his back when he did so, “Me?! I’m fine. I have had worse beatings than that when wrestling with Sammy. It’s just a hole in the head and some rocks stabbing my back, no harm, right?”

He joked with her a bit, but let his voice go serious after a few seconds, sighing, “But you…You scared the hell out of me back there. If I had seen that blood puddle with no body, there’s no way I would have believed the person survived. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again…”

The moment Dean complained about his back injury, she couldn't help but scoff and smirk at his moaning. "welcome to the club" she told him, knowing that if she hadn't tattooed her entire back she would still be wallowing in self pity and disgust about how she looked. It was bad enough that scars healed the way did, some of them not healing well at all and still looked pretty raised in the scar tissue. That was something she had to always live with, that she would never be this perfect skinned being anymore, but there were still times when it was hard to accept. She could take any injury onto herself, especially now she was deemed an adult and healed much better than when she was a child, but when it came to her back? That was something she would never fully get over.

She made sure to be as careful and delicate as she could possibly be. She paused what she was doing for a second as he laughed, not wanting to accidentally get the tweezer lodged in his back and when he stopped laughing she continued on and managed to get the last bit out. She sighed and shook her head when he tried to brush off his injuries as not much even though head injuries were the most concerning if not checked out. If nothing else he could get a concussion.

She continued to joke with him until he turned serious and said how much she scared him and her eyes lowered as she focused on patching up his back with gauze and pads so he wouldn't risk getting anything else into the little cuts. "I'm sorry Dean, I didn't even know my leg was that bad until after and I checked it. I thought I just sprained my ankle but I guess landing on your leg and it going sideways does a bit more than sprain it" she replied to him. "But truth be told, when I saw the extent of it, I was scared shitless myself."she admitted to him." if I was on my own I don't know how I would have got out of there" she said a bit quieter than she previously spoke, but still loud enough for him

Dean nodded as she explained that the wound was worse than she originally thought it was. He understood that. The one time that he had almost died from an injury, one that John brushed off, was when he fell on his own knife and didn’t realize it. The knife had been in his bag, and when he was thrown, it pierced the canvas and stuck into his side. He nearly lost a kidney, but John kept insisting it was just a bruised rib.

He shuddered at the thought of the memory and reached his hand carefully behind him, running the top of his fingers over her thigh, “I know. But I was there. I will always be there, because I don’t want you put in those positions, no matter how simple of a hunt. Things go south, and you have no backup, and you end up banged up. No one is going to ask you if you’re alright, in this business…”

He took a deep breath and continued, “In fact, in this particular situation, I would have been toast too. I don’t make good decisions when I’m alone. Why do you think I’m so scared for Sammy? Or to be away from my Dad? I’ve never been on my own…”

As he spoke, he barely noticed that his eyes were starting to flutter closed. He stayed in the upright position, but he was now starting to feel the effects from the head injury, a bit more acutely, now that his adrenaline was fading. He swayed a bit, but pulled his hand forward and placed it on the bed to straighten himself. Concussions were nothing, but they made things a little complicated when trying to care for someone else.

“But now it’s me and you…”, he spoke with a tiny slur and a smile.

Mika listened to Dean reply to her and looked down at her thigh when his hand stretched round him and placed it on her. She knew just as well as he did that they did that alone without each other, either of them would be laying in that cavern or stuck in that house dead somewhere. She knew this was why he was so scared for Sam and it was why she suggested the other day that they go find where he is and just check on him from a distance to just to make sure and then leave.

She frowned when he said he was now on his own and she shook her head, "you're not alone" she reminded him, when she noticed even from behind that not all was right with him and that ehad injury was most definitely being the key factor. Her suspicions were confirmed when his voice slurred, "Dean, come lay down for me, I'm going to check your head whether you like it not, but you gotta stay with me okay?" she said to him, shuffling across with a wince to make sure he had more room to lay down beside her.

She grabbed the medic kit once more and looked through it, finding some more thread and the needle he used on her only moments ago, deciding she wanted it close by just incase as she had a feeling she would have to stitch up his head and get a gauze on it to stop it bleeding.