This was not anything the elder hunter was not used to. Bobby could remember the very first time he fixed Dean's wound that spurted blood from a v-shaped cut near his chest. At the time, he could remember being struck with how heinous it looked. Now it was as though his mind numbed him to the pain of seeing his boys like that. Looking in on Sam, who resembled nothing more than a blob, and Dean who was resting peacefully on the sofa, he tried to forget the condition they arrived in. That endeavor was not always easy, but it was nothing a quick shot of whiskey would not fix.