The fingers were unforgiving as they probed the deep hole, fingernails scraping across muscle fibre as they searched for the tiny mental target.
"Hurry... the... hell... up."
A head jerked in the direction of the voice, and the loss of concentration caused the fingers of torment to jar and pull on the sore reddening flesh.
"Just leave it, Sammy." A voice came from between tightly clenched teeth. "Try again later, yeah?"
"No."
Sam didn't look up this time. His brows just furrowed deeply as he attempted again to locate the object which was causing his brother so much pain.
Fingers brushed a hard foreign object and Sam winced himself as he pushed his hand down, deepening his intrusion in order to pinch the metal. The fresh and congealed blood made it almost impossible to keep a hold of, but somehow Sam kept his hand steady. When his fingers left the hole a few seconds later, the bullet glinted and then slipped from his fingers.
"Sammy?" Dean groaned, his gaze meeting that of his brother. "I hate field medicine."
Sam tore a piece of material from the bottom of is shirt and smiled softly. "Me too, soldier."