[h3] Cason [/h3]

Cason tensed as Dean walked down the stairs with Mika in tow.  Dean looked like hell, and Cason would have felt bad about it, if the man hadn’t attacked him first.  Deserved or not, he defended himself against the most ruthless hunter on the planet.  He wouldn’t apologize for that.

Violet wrapped herself tighter around him, but he quickly shoved her off, her paws gently padding the floor as she landed.  He stood from the couch, and ran his hand up the back of Violet’s head to tell her to follow him.  Cason didn’t want to stay in the house with Dean Winchester up and around, any longer than he had to, and he still hadn’t checked on the perimeter hounds.

“I’m going to go for a walk…”, he muttered to Esme, and walked out the front door with Violet huffing as the cold air hit her face.

[h3] Dean Winchester [/h3]

Dean kept his possessive hold on Mika until the hit the bottom step, seeing everyone watching them.  He realized then how worried everyone was that he was going to kill someone, after the nights events.  He really needed to learn different avenues to release his stress, if this was the reaction he was going to get every time he got in a fight.  

He instantly nodded to his brother, a silent gesture of ‘Everything is cool.  Get some rest.’.  He could tell that Sam took the message, as he decided to retire for the night.  When he approached Dean, Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist, clapping his hand simply against his back to tell him he loved him, and also a small apology for his actions.  Sam understood.  Sam always understood.

Dean turned back, seeing Cason step out the door, his Hellhound ruffling papers as it walked with him.  He shuddered at the idea that he got lucky.  The Hellhounds had let him fight with Cason, because Cason made them.  Otherwise, they would have easily ripped Dean apart, a feeling he was intimate with, and didn’t want to feel ever again.
“Well, everyone looks pretty good, down here.”, Dean muttered, smiling.  As he smiled, the blood on his nose cracked a bit, and Bobby sighed, pointing at him with the pair of scissors he was toying with.

“We’re all fine, but you look like shit, boy.  That hole in the back of your head. Does it need stitches?”, he asked Dean, too which Dean shook his head and brought his hand up to check the wound again.

“No.  It seems like it’s mostly a knot.  It’ll be fine.  I’ll wash my hair before I head to bed…don’t worry about bloodstains anymore tonight…”, Dean joked with Bobby, who rolled his eyes and waved the scissors at him.

“Better not get anything bloody.  And Dean?”

Dean turned his head slightly, making eye contact with Bobby.

“We need to talk about those outbursts you’re having.  You were in Hell for four months.  That kind of anger…we need to snuff it.  Deal?”

“Deal…”, Dean sighed, smirking at Bobby, “I’m just glad everyone is okay, for the most part.  That was a shitty situation for everyone…especially…”

He turned to Esme, and waved his hand at her, “How are you doing?”