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[ he'd rather dean stay close and let him cling, but he supposes they have to be moving, so he'll take the flannel. slipping the coat off so he can shoulder the shirt on, and then layering the coat over it. up close, dean might glance the smattering of faint, silvery scars across his body: one stretching from his eyebrow to the outer corner of his eye, almost too faint to see; another curving over the saddle of his shoulder; one straight down his chest; and another cutting across his belly just beneath his navel. the one between his pecs is the most prominent, but it'll probably fade with time, alongside all the rest. he finishes buttoning the flannel with his unsteady hands, and immediately slips them back beneath dean's shirt.

at least the flannel hangs down far enough to almost cover him. ]