Title: Pins and Needles. Or, more specifically, Fishhooks and Syringes.
Author: Enkidu07
Disclaimer: Everything is fictional
Challenge Word: Weird
A/N: Special edition for Vanessa's birthday! I hope you have an amazing year!
A/N2: This is only inspired by the E/O challenge. I violated the rules and now it's a quintupabble. :)

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Sam was taking forever preparing. Dean grew impatient and made the mistake of looking.

Fishhook needles were lined up on the sterile sheet on the bedside table, each piece of string threaded at both ends.

"What're you doing?" Dean's voice was pitched a tone higher than normal.

"It's deep, Dean. I'm gonna use a vertical mattress stitch."

"Why? Just do the regular one."

Sam sighed and forced Dean's arm up so he could examine the six-inch laceration spanning high across his ribs are curling under his arm. "Man. It's that or I'm gonna have to throw in a few subcuticular stitches in to make sure it holds. Every time you lift your arm, it'll pull open."

Dean made a face. Sam wouldn't let him put his arm down, so he curled his hand around the back of his head, trying to get comfortable.

"You want a local?"

"Not really. What about the topical cream?"

Sam shook his head, "That's not for broken skin."

"Numbing spray?"

Sam looked empathetic. "Not for this, man."

Sam prepped the hypodermic while Dean was still thinking of an out. Sam had already cleaned the cut but now swabbed a spot practically in Dean's armpit. The tickling sensation bordered on pain.

"Dude, don't stick it there." Dean started to pull away but Sam had his bicep.

"Sorry man, that's where it'll hurt the most. This'll numb it."

Sam was efficient, sliding the needle in while still talking. There was a pinch and then a stinging sensation spiked.

After a second, Sam tossed the needle aside a pressed a cloth back to the wound.

Dean could feel Sam's gaze on him and he forced himself to relax back into the mattress. Sam's hand slipped down to the wrist on his good side. Dean could feel his pulse racing and forced another slow breath. Sam's grip lingered until the sting faded and Dean's side went pleasantly numb.

"You ready?"

Dean nodded and kept his closed his eyes as Sam started.

"You want me to tell you what I'm doing?"

"Just do it, Sam."

Dean let himself subtly grip the bedspread as he felt the pressured bite of the deeper part of each stitch. As he acclimated to the sensation, he forced his eyes open and watched Sam's face.

Sam's eyes flicked to his, assessing. "That hurt?"

"A little. Mostly feels weird."

Sam nodded and went back to concentrating on his work.

Sam was methodical and unhurried in is movements and Dean relaxed as the adrenaline faded. He floated, unfocused, until Sam gently pulled his raised arm down to his side.

"Done?" He asked, unnecessarily.

"Done," Sam answered. "I'm gonna clean you up a little. Go back to sleep."

Dean watched as Sam swiped the blood from his side and then closed his eyes as Sam drug another washcloth across the grime on his face.

"'M good?" He asked, groggily.

"You're good. Go to sleep."

"You good?" Dean asked before letting himself pass out.

"Yeah, I'm good."

Dean nodded. "Awesome."

--

end.