[h3] Duke [/h3] 

Duke scooted back on the bed, as Mika stepped away to go retrieve the first aid kit. He kicked his boots off, and kicked the over by the table, before listening to Mika’s request for him to lay back. The soreness of his body was beginning to set in, and he was pretty sure he had stitches in his back, as well, but they didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the ones in the front. They also seemed to be bandaged, which told him that it was the first set that they had done, before he died.

Mika’s comments brought a small smile on his face, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he couldn’t help but joke back with her, “I guess it makes me look more…rugged. I’m too pretty, otherwise. Too sweet. These blue eyes were what go you on my good side all those years ago.”

He lifted his head, letting Mika adjust things so he was completely comfortable in his own bed, and then he turned his eyes up toward the ceiling as Mika went to work on the stab wound beneath his ribs. He hissed, and the smile fell from his face when she mentioned that she felt like she was losing Dean. It was definitely an echo of his own feelings, with Esme. But it was insane for her to believe that Dean would rehash old flames, when he had full access to Mika. Duke knew that things with Dean would never be the same…at least for their little trio, when Mika showed back up, fully there and willing to talk. Duke knew it was over…right then. Dean would always choose her over almost anyone.

“That’s ridiculous, you know.” Duke chimed in, that mischievous light behind his eyes, to let her know he was talking to her as her little brother, completely confidential. “I mean, I think he’ll always have…somethin’ there for her. He didn’t do a lot to hold onto her way back then. He has regrets. He hovered. He was worried. He treated her like this breakable thing that would fly out of his hands at any moment if he didn’t cling to her. But then you showed up, and like a light switch, he slipped through her fingers and she ran off. I don’t know the full story, there…but I think I might have a good idea. She was just as scared back then as you were.”

As she scoffed, Duke shook his head, “Shut your mouth. If anyone gets the situation, it’s me, right? You…don’t let him allow you to slip through his fingers. Judgin’ by the way your talkin’, you already are. Nobody can stop that, but you…”

Duke glanced down at Mika’s handiwork as she finished, brushing his fingers over the covering with a soft sigh. He then turned his eyes up toward the ceiling, as his own words to Mika settled into his brain. All this cloud of feelings surrounding Esme and Dean was just old baggage. If push came to shove, Duke felt like Esme would choose him, now…even if Dean ran into her arms like some sort of savior. But did he? He understood how Mika felt, but he needed to take his own advice. 

Mika’s voice broke him from this thoughts again, and he turned to look at her with a soft smile, “Nah. I’m good. I think I’m just gonna pass out, honestly. I don’t think I could walk back into the house right now and I don’t exactly see Esme walkin’ out here, tonight. If anyone needs any more room, or you wanna crash, I got the couch.”

He sighed, and pulled one of the many blankets on his little bed over himself reaching a hand out to grab Mika’s, running his thumb over her knuckles, “Thank you, Meeko.”

[h3] Dean [/h3]

As Dean held onto Esme, Bobby quickly worked on her head, stitching a bit on the inside, before starting in on the outside. Dean and Bobby sat in silence as he did so and Dean glanced around the room. The house was silent, now. Sam and Anna were still on the porch, Cason was presumably watching Nat sleep, like a creep and Mika was…

“Mika outside with Duke?” Dean asked Bobby, who tied off a stitch, clipped it, and nodded. Bobby didn’t elaborate and Dean sighed, realizing he had likely hurt Duke’s feelings…again. Not to mention Mika was probably pissed beyond measure at him. This was just great. He brought himself back to the present as Bobby finished up on Esme’s head, and waved for Dean to turn her so that he could get a better look at her shoulder. “You think we’re gonna be okay?”

“No. But what choice do we have? The world’s crumblin’ around us. We can either sit around in a circle and cry about what’s ailin’ us, or we can suck it up and work together. When everyone gets some sleep, we’ll hash it all out.” Bobby muttered as he cleaned the stab wound on Esme’s shoulder. Before pulling another needle he had threaded, “It’ll work itself out with some hard…truths.”

“Hard truths?” Dean asked, tilting his head.

“Figure it out. Tilt her head that way for me…” Bobby grumbled, as Dean tilted Esme’s head to lay closer to his cheek, just as she began to mumble something that sounded oddly familiar. He reached a hand up, brushing her hair from the side of her face, around behind her ear as he closed his eyes, taking some deep breaths.

[h3] Cason [/h3] 

Cason watched Nat’s face, until she finally agreed to take a bath. As if a load was taken off his shoulders, Cason sighed and relaxed a bit, glad that he could sweetly convince Nat to just take care of herself, even if it meant working with her fears and her completely justified fear of water, after what had happened to her. He nodded his head, and smirked. “Thank you.”

When she made the comment about running the bath, he glanced toward the bathroom, studying the clawfoot tub until he was confident he knew every pipe and fixture in the tub. Keeping his promise to not leave her alone, Cason turned his head back to her with a slightly larger smile.

“Wanna see a magic trick?” He asked, the mischievous smirk that he knew she couldn’t resist creeping onto his face. He snapped his fingers beside his head, keeping his smile, and the water taps began to turn. The bathtub plugged itself and the water settled to a comfortable temperature. “Now. Let’s get you out of those clothes. I got your bag. I’m pretty sure I can get the blood out of your hair…for the most part and then I will happily stand guard while you sleep.”

Cason stood from the bed, pulling Nat with him as gently as he could. He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her into the bathroom. He didn’t figure anyone would be barging in. So, he didn’t bother to close the bathroom door, walking Nat over to stand next to the tub. “Not that you’ve been…shy around me…but if you need me to turn around or something, I can. I don’t know how modest humans are, from person to person.”

He chuckled softly, and lifted his arm, grabbing the back of his shirt and whipping it off over his head. As he did, he groaned with the lowering of his arms, trying to keep his voice low as the pain from his stomach caught him off guard. Glancing down at it, he sighed, seeing that the hole was not completely closed off, even hours later. Shrugging It off the best he could, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it from his jeans, before unbuttoning his pants and glancing up at Nat, the iron burns around his collar bones glaring in the brighter light of the bathroom, “Before you ask…I’m fine. Iron sucks. I’ll be back to normal in a couple of days…maybe less.”

[h3] Anna [/h3] 

Anna relaxed a bit as Sam agreed that if she went to the basement, he was coming with her. The thought of not being alone while she dealt with whatever the detox was going to bring, if Cason didn’t give her any of his blood, was at least a relief. She nodded. There was, at that moment, no reason to believe that Sam would just abandon her the second that Bobby closed the door to the panic room.

When he brought up that they should go see if it’s even a possibility, Anna nodded once again and sighed, “Yeah. Okay. Hopefully they are at least done talking about the inevitability of…me for the time being. I just don’t think I can take any more earth shattering revelations, in the next few hours.”

She took Sam’s hand, standing up from the step, and at first she gave him a confused look when he brought up her shoulder. She hadn’t even thought about the bite, while sitting out in the numbing cool air. There was a bit more on her mind than some stupid Hellhound making her it’s chew toy. From what she could tell, the wound wasn’t even bleeding anymore…or it was just scabbed over and gross. She couldn’t tell.

“I forgot it was there, to be honest. The pain in my head kinda drowned it out.” She scoffed, stepping toward the door but staying close to Sam. With Dean in the living room, there was no way she was walking through the door first. She tightened her grip on Sam’s hand and crossed her other arm over her stomach protectively, preparing to do her best to avoid eye contact.