"Try and think of something nice, Dean!"

Sam cautiously peeled back the towel from the gaping tear in his brother's forearm and rich, crimson blood oozed from the cleanly incised wound edges.

"This is gonna need at least a dozen stitches."

Sam found Dean's pain dilated eyes.

"You gonna be able to hang in there?"

Dean nodded through gritted teeth, not trusting himself to speak.

Sam raised the curved suture needle and paused poised over Dean's trembling arm.

"So, you thinking about something nice?"

The needle bit the flesh and tugged at the bronzed skin.

"Yeah..."

"What?"

"Local anaesthetic, Sammy!"