Go figure, Cas is surprisingly persuasive when he wants to be. That or Dean's concussed, because Dean Winchester does not get bullied into doing anything he doesn't want to do. Ever.

But here he is, sitting on the edge of the tub, shirt off and head tilted to one side while a fallen freaking angel dabs at his neck with an alcohol soaked cotton ball. It really could have been worse, all things considered. A few cuts, a few bruises. He doesn't even need stitches! Well, okay, some of those cuts are going to scar without stitches, but he doesn't need them. Dean grumbles and hisses his way through the entire process.

"I'm telling you, I can do this myself. It's not like I can't see my neck!"