And on those bad days, she'll help remind him. Sam would do the same thing for her if she were in his shoes. "Puppy, that's what I'm here for. My plan was to lock you up in a room with me and take care of you myself, but apparently, psychiatric medicine has come a long way and Dean thinks you'll do better here with medicine." She leans across Sam and across the bed to snag her bag with one hand then dumps it out onto the bed. There are books, a pot of the cream in question, bandages, tape, knitting needles, and a couple of skeins of yarn. At least tonight she can stay until just before the shift change when she'll sneak out in the early hours of the morning.

She opens the pot of ointment and gently smooths it on his hand. "I am the instruction book," she teases him as she starts to wind the bandage around Sam's hand.