But this version of Benny just shakes his head and pulls out a lumpy roll of bandages from the pack slung over his shoulder. "Or maybe you do need help."
"Not like I could get back up on the horse by myself," Dean admits, awkwardly wrapping his left wrist, wishing for a couple of butterfly clips when the end keeps refusing to stay tucked in. The right wrist is even worse until finally Benny takes the bandage back and does it for him--and then silently redoes the other as well, which is good because it had felt like it was going to fall off at the first excuse it got.
Behind Dean, his theoretical guard has started snoring, and Benny gives a disappointed sigh. "Let's just get out of here, chief, though we'll have to just lead the horse for now. Too much chance of noise if we mount him here."
After what feels like a small eternity but is probably more like fifteen minutes, they reach a clearing with a fallen tree on one edge, which they both use to get up onto the horse--who clearly isn't thrilled with this new development, from amount of sighing it does during the process, but eventually they're all settled and off again.
Benny has the reins, which is fine with Dean, but he feels a bit awkward sitting in back like the girls always do in westerns. "So, what's your story?" he asks after the uncomfortable silence stretches on awhile. "Already told you mine."
Benny shrugs. "Ain't much of one--my brothers and I lived on a farm, started poaching after a string of bad harvests. Eventually we decided it was easier to just keep do that. After a while we started nabbing anyone who rode by, as well--might as well take what we needed, since no one had ever offered us help when we were on the brink of starving."
"Why help me, then?" It's definitely easier riding with Benny than it had been by himself; less jolting from the horse, though his head is threatening to split open. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping that'll help a little.
"Been thinking about leaving for a while," Benny admits. "Find some quiet little town, maybe use what I've saved to start a bakery."
"So I'm your excuse to finally skedaddle," Dean says, and finally gives in to the urge to rest his forehead against Benny's shoulder. Maybe a bit of pressure will help, and it's not like any of this is real anyway. He just won't tell Sam and so it'll be like it never happened, so none of this counts as anything.
"You could put it like that if you wanted," Benny says, mild.