"Crap."
Sam's head snaps up at Dean's quiet exclamation. "What?"
Dean holds up a finger. "Cut's infected. "
Sam pulls Dean's hand closer to look.
"Don't touch it." Dean barks.
"Gotta soak it."
Twenty minutes later, Dean pulls a wrinkled hand from the salt water. Sam efficiently pulls gauze across the wound.
"Ow! What'd you do that for?" Dean's face puckers.
"Need to get the dead skin off. Hold still."
There's a tussle.
When Sam's finished his jeans are soaked and there's water all over the floor, but Dean's finger looks less red. Sam wraps it lightly. "Keep it clean."