A/N: SO SORRY! I got caught up in other things and almost completely forgot about this! Alright, Im accepting a reviewer request from...*drum roll*

Keke113! She requested that Dean messes up a hunt. Its a bit more angsty/dramatic then she made it sound but here you go!

Dean had gone numb. Sam tried to help, but Dean was just gruff and grunting. He no longer was mood swinging, just mopey.

Bobby had came down one morning, in only his American flag boxers, carrying a newspaper.

"Jesus, Bobby! Can we eat first? "Dean said, gesturing to his plate.

"Look, it seemed like you needed a boost. Plus I need you idjits out of my hair while I try to find this cure." Bobby said, throwing the clipping onto the table.

"Two hours away from here. A quick haunting in an abandoned maternity hospital. It should be quick and semi-painless."

xxxxxxx

A few hours later, Sam and Dean were standing outside the Helping Hands Maternal Ward.

"The ghost of a fat nurse? Lets gank it." Dean said, sounding a bit more eager to do anything then he had in the last few days.

"You feeling a little trigger happy? "Sam asked as he leaned into the door.

"Dude, I may only have a few more days of masculinity. Might as well enjoy them." Dean said, walking inside and immediately stopping.

The ward was full of middle aged women, talking excessively about spotting and the baby kicking too early.

He had to talk to them...

"Dean!" Sam called from faraway. Dean came back to find himself leaning on the counter to talk to Judy Moore, whoever that was...

Dean turned around. "The women are in here, we cant shoot bullets." Dean said.

Sam made his signature what the hell are you talking about look. "Theres no one in here but us." He started to walk toward the ward.

"Sam, you asshole! "Sam whirled around to see Dean seething. "You want to shoot down a pregnant lady by accident?! "

Sam calmly walked over and grabbed Deans shoulders. "Dean, were alone. Theres no one here but us." Sam said in exasperation.

"Oh really? "Dean said, now in a total anger mindset.

Sam and Dean went into such a furious match of physical and verbal abuse that they didnt notice the pudgy woman in candy stripes creeping behind them.

xxxxxxxx

Bobby Singer was certaintly not a man of peace, normality, but he was all for a nap on the porch with the radio blasting a baseball game.

The Impala tore into the junkyard something loud and awful, yet Bobby didnt wake up until Sam stomped past him, covered in what looked like hospital food vomit.

Dean stormed into the house, his face flushed red and his hand clutching and uncluthcing his gun in hand.

A/N: Again, sorry. My drabbles caught up on me and so did the menustral demon. So I wrote this on my tablet at midnight bleeding like a dead cow. How joyful.