First Cut
He can't look at it, buries his face in the crook of his other elbow. "How bad is it?"
His father's shadow falls over him. "Worst case scenario, you'll lose the arm."
He almost blacks out then and there, swallows bile.
A grin cuts John's face like a fault line. "Relax, Dean. You're gonna be fine."
Sammy's in the car, bawling, screaming to raise the dead. Again.
John ties off a tight dressing, hauls Dean to his feet with a clap on the back that will stick with him well after the twenty-one stitches are removed and the scar fades.
Author Note: Gotta stop chasing bunnies around the yard and work on my multi-chap!
