A/N: Another older word. Word: Wrist. Could be set anywhere in the series.
Disclaimer: Don't own them. Never will. The same tragic tale we all tell.
First thing he noticed was fingers on his wrist, then his neck. Checking for a pulse. That bad? A voice, familiar and comforting, filtered through the haze of pain.
"Dean?"
"Hey, Sam. We get it?"
"Get what? We're having lunch. Coming back from the restrooms, you collapsed. Dean, what the hell?"
"Might've left out one little injury. Didn't want to worry you."
"Yeah, 'cause freaking out is so much better. Where? Let me guess, that stubborn head of yours!"
Dean nodded, belatedly realized his mistake, and threw up on his brother's shoes.
"Good guess."
