Dean placed the ice pack against his jaw until Mika’s hands came up to his face causing him to open his eyes with a flutter and a smirk at her words,” It’s a headache that will be worth it though.  We took down a nest together…that’s some pretty good work.”

He chuckled, groaning a bit at the pain in his ribs.  He winced at her fingers touching his nose.  It was most definitely broken, and full of blood.  But it wasn’t the first time he had broken it.  If anything, it just made his nose more distinguished.  He nodded gently at her offer to fix it, before his eyes snapped open at her calling him a damsel, “Now hold on…I had everything under control back there….they…”

He left the sentence and huffed, but kept a small smile on his face.  She was right.  He had saved his ass, more than once, something he had to be grateful for.  He attempted to follow her hands as she cleaned the blood from his face.  Somehow, he had managed to not get enough in his mouth or his eyes to cause a change, although he hadn’t been especially careful.  It was almost like face paint at this point.  

Dean brought a hand up, wiping a few of the droplets of blood from her face, and laughing, “Hey…it was more fun than burying ourselves in alcohol.  I needed that win if I’m honest.  Happy date night.”

He laughed, and followed her eyes down to her waist, quickly pushing her hand away from his face in a panic as he noticed the piece of wood at the same time, “Dammit…I thought you came out of this one unscathed.”

He said the words in a frustrated tone, reaching his hand down to circle the shard of wood with his fingers, testing if it was deep enough to bleed from pressure.  Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be.  So, he met her eyes, bringing his other hand down, “Take a deep breath…one, two…”

He yanked the wood from her side, causing a small gush of blood to follow, which he pressed his hand to tightly.  He shrugged her completely off of him, sitting back and pulling his over-shirt off quickly, his mind now completely in rescue mode, even though the wound wasn’t as bad as his mind worried it would be.  As he pulled his left arm out of his shirt, he winced at the pain in his ribs again, throwing the shirt over her head and around her waist by the sleeves.

He placed both the sleeves in her hands, reaching down his own leg to his boot, where he pulled a bandana he had always kept there, in case he had to patch Sam up when they were out together.  Rolling it into a ball a little bigger than the wound, he pressed it with a hiss to the wound, knowing it was going to hurt like a bitch.

“Hey…I can’t let you just save my ass without returning a little of the favor.  It’s just a scratch…”, he reassured, mostly to himself as he took the sleeves from her hands and tied them tightly around her waist into a knot.  He then leaned in and kissed her lips gently, “It wouldn’t be a date night without a little blood, right?”