Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother saying he’d be fine.  He knew Sam would hold a bit of contempt, especially if this girl turned up dead or harmed.  But, it was a risk he had to take for Sam’s well being.  It was always Sam…

He looked up at Kenzi, and shrugged his shoulders, “I mean.  Yeah.  I’m fine.”

However, as he looked at her, he noticed that had bruised her chest.  The bruise almost jumped out and slapped him in the face, causing him to grit his teeth and clinch his jaw.  He wiped a hand down his face and shook his head, leaning both hands on the table to stabilize himself, “I’ll be fine.”

Within a couple of hours of sitting drowning them both out with his thoughts, Dean found himself collapse on his bed, asleep.  He awoke to a pain in his stomach.  Guilt.  Probably from a dream, or rather nightmare about the altercation from earlier in the night.  He sighed, running a hand down his face and stared over at Kenzi’s bed.

“Dammit Dean…”, he whispered to himself, reaching a hand up under his pillow to make sure his gun was still secure, before slipping out of his bed.  He gently stepped over, lowering himself carefully into her bed, without looking around the room.  He raised her blanket, and slipped his legs under, curling himself up around her and drifting off to sleep again, his face buried in her hair.