"I promise, Dean, if I do it quick, you'll hardly feel it!"
Sam held the bottles ready as Dean sat swaying on the side of the tub. Blood dripped rhythmically onto the stained porcelain, his entire shoulder and arm grazed raw by the creature's filthy claws.
"Gotta clean the wounds, bro. You know the drill, peroxide and Holy water."
Dean nodded wearily. He hurt too much for this, but knew it had to be done.
"Okay, Sammy, if you say so."
His soft green eyes dilated apprehensively as Sam hefted the bottles. Mangled flesh sizzled, almost drowning out the screams.