Dorothy's POV
The scent of teakwood fills my senses as warm water cradles my body. My eyes snap open, confusion washing over me as I try to understand where I am.
"Easy there. We both need cleaning and you reek of Dean. I couldn't stand going to bed with his smell on you," Joseph's voice cuts through my disorientation like a lifeline.
His words alone calm the panic rising in my chest. I press myself closer to his solid warmth, desperate to replace every trace of Dean with Joseph's familiar scent.
"How are you holding up?" The question slips out before I can stop it. Even through the bond, I can sense the storm of emotions raging inside him.
Joseph's hands are gentle as he pours water over my shoulders, washing away the grime and stench of that awful cave. And Dean's touch. I don't want to think about why my skin carries his scent.
"I should be the one asking you that question. But I'm better now that you're here, safe where you belong," he murmurs against my ear.
