He returns the smile, though he's almost sure that Dean can't even really see him anymore, and again he feels that stab of fierce protectiveness that he'd felt that first day in the park. Seeing someone in pain. Wanting to help them. Hoping that somehow they'll avoid all the mistakes that almost ruined you.

His hand lingers, almost a caress, and then he hits Dean again, backhanded across the face, feeling his knuckles collide with bone hard enough to hurt him.

He turns back to the bed, drops the cane down, picks up the baton. This is sealing, like before. This is kindness.