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Summary
The loud thump of tensed flesh crashing against cheaply built walls of the motel room they rented rattled in Deans ears.
His breath knocked out of him as his ribcage gave way for a second from the brunt force of it and sweat pearling on his forehead, dripping down to his temples.
They'd just got back to the motel after finishing off a covern of witches. Oh, how Dean despised witches. Disgusting folks playing with bodily fluids and carcuses. Perverse, and not in a good way. Always bad news. It was a close call this time, Dean almost getting his heart crushed by an invisible force until Cas found the hex bag just in time and ganked the bitch.
Or: Dean and Cas almost died and on a hunt and it makes then rethink their already risky relationship and strengthen their "profound bond"