"That's... good," he allowed. If Dean was going to do this, which apparently he was, Don Juan would prefer he was better at it. Coming home like this had to be the exception, not the rule. He watched Hudson sit on the bed, noticing every way his body language was off and aching with anxiety. Hudson bent for his shoes and Don Juan swooped in to intercept him, kneeling at the side of the bed and working off the laces.

"Let me take care of you," he insisted. "Or I'm going to lose my mind."

---