"Ahh! God damn it!"

Sam gripped the edges of the bed he sat on till his knuckles turned white, and his toes curled in his boots. His shirt was off, and Dean was picking at his shoulder. They hadn't thought he'd needed to until Sam had undressed, and they'd seen the bruising, all black and purple. And where there wasn't bruising there was red swelling. Where muscle hadn't been hit he must've clipped bone, maybe the clavicle or the acromion. Pieces had surely broken off.

Castiel had wanted to heal him, but Sam wanted him to use his powers for himself, or save them for trying to get out, or for a last fight that they might have to face. So Castiel was healed now, though he was still filthy, dirt on his face, blood on the collar of his shirt, and he stood by Sam, a hand over his.

"Do you need something to bite down on?" he asked. "You can use my belt."

"I'm good," Sam heaved out.

Dean had gone in through the front, but he could feel the tools digging inside, and even near the back. The wound went all the way through. If it was wide enough, he wondered if he'd have to pack it.

"Mmm… Find anything?"

"Yeah, almost got a piece."

There was a sharp tingling deep within the throbbing soreness that took over his entire left shoulder, that traveled down towards his elbow, and through to his collarbone and neck, and then a pulling sensation. Sam clenched his jaw, teeth grinding down, and his body shook, sweat beading on his forehead. He screamed through his teeth.

Dean held up the forceps, and there was a tiny sliver of white coated in red held in them.

"Wuss," Dean teased.

Sam wanted to stick his tongue out at him, but he held it back.

It went on like that, till he was sure there was nothing left, and he did end up needing Castiel's belt to bite down on.

They didn't pack the wound, and Dean stitched it up on both sides for him, and Sam was lying on his back, icing it, while a few of his less serious wounds got stitched up, or taken care of with butterfly bandages. There was one across his brow that was sore, and the blood had kept threatening to drip in his eye earlier. Closing it up didn't take too much work.

Now Dean was taking his flannel off and sitting on the opposite bed, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

"Okay, my turn."

A zombie had bitten Dean on his right arm, where his scar from dark Kaia's spear was. Without the bandana wrapped around it he thought there were some decayed, rotting teeth stuck in there. Sam almost smirked. Payback.

Dean started to drink from his bottle of scotch once more, but Sam grabbed it from him.

"Hey, hey, hey! That's mine!"

"Need it," Sam answered simply, and then poured it all over his arm.

Dean grabbed Cas' thigh, and cried out, breathing hard.

"Fuck you, Sammy!"

Sam shot him a fuck you right back, saying the words with a simple facial expression.

Dean had gotten out with less injuries, but somehow more bloodied, so Cas set to cleaning him as Sam set up the supplies he'd need.

And then he got started on extracting the teeth, not bothering on being gentle. He wasn't in the mood for gentle. He'd found Dean in a graveyard with their kid on his knees, a gun pointed at his head.

It was over and done with now, and Chuck was enemy number one, but so much had happened recently, and Sam was still trying to process. He was switching back and forth between hurt, angry, and empty, and his body throbbed with every beat of his heart.

"Argh, what the hell?" Dean complained. "I went easy on you."

"Uh huh."

"Fuck, is that a dead guy's tooth?" Dean asked.

"Yep."

"Knew I felt somethin' in there."

"Just relax," Cas told him, rubbing Dean's shoulder.

"I'll relax when I'm dead," Dean answered. "Your daddy tell you when that'll be?"

"Dean, you know he doesn't talk to me."

"Yeah, well mine never did either, unless he was giving me orders."

Sam sighed, continued digging through the wound, feeling Dean tense, listening to him and Castiel have their on-edge conversation. The wound was too messy to stitch up, and it looked like it was already getting infected. It had yellow pus, and there was inflamed tissue deeper down that he couldn't get at. Sam winced.

He butted in to what they were saying now, which was something about angel radio, and he asked, "Hey, we got any tubing around here?"

"Uh… why?" Dean asked.

"You're gonna be leaking fluid," Sam told him.

"Please never say those words again."

"Tubing's in one of the drawers by the scales," Castiel spoke up.

Sam nodded his thanks, and went searching for it, telling one of them to keep pressure on the wound since it was still oozing something — a bit of blood, maybe some serum.

He'd never really done this before, so his hands were shaking when he came back over with a thin drainage tube and a scalpel. Dean's eyes went wide, leaning his head back as he stared.

"No. Not happening."

"Dean, you have an infection," Sam informed him. "You want the bacteria to grow and take over your arm?"

Dean hugged his arm to himself, frowning. Actually, it almost looked like a pout, a face a child might make.

"I like my arm," he mumbled.

"Good, then hold it out. Cas, keep him steady, and he's gonna need your belt."

"Ew, that was in your mouth."

"Cas?"

"Yes, I'll get it."

Dean grumbled at both of them, but then Cas had his arms around him, and one hand tightly on Dean's injured arm. His belt was in his mouth, adding more teeth marks to the leather, and Sam set to work. He tried to ignore his brother's pain, and even his own, as he took the scalpel to his already-injured flesh, and then inserted the drainage tube inside, which had Dean trying to pull away from both of them. Castiel held him steady. Once it was deep enough, Dean's breaths coming in heavy pants, spit dribbling past his lips, Sam put plenty of gauze, and securely wrapped the area. And hopefully he'd put enough wrappings to soak up the infection as it drained out. He bandaged it up more, covering the tube, and Dean let the belt fall from his mouth.

"God, can the world end already?" he asked. "I'm sick of this shit."

Sam pat him on the back, and Cas pulled him close.

"We'll figure something out," the angel told him. "We'll get through this."

Dean closed his eyes, a tear trailing down his cheek.

Sam turned away, not sure if what Castiel said was something either of them wanted to hear.