Word Count: 400 (ooops)
Prompt Word: Steady
Extra: Ugh bad Rose! 400 words? Alas - I tried, I failed for 300. Ah well, here we go. More icky but more cute hurt/comfort too. Thanks to Enkidu07 for giving me a nice little prompt/idea too :D x
"Hold him steady, would ya?" Bobby ordered gruffly, the first words he had spoken for fifteen minutes.
Sam complied meekly, eyes cast down, tightening his grip on Dean's good arm whilst slipping one hand into his white knuckled fist – it was one thing to be told off Singer-style, but a whole other to sit through a Singer-style, condemned silence – an uncharacteristically and furiously mute Bobby was one to be feared.
Dean's hand relaxed a little and folded into Sam's, one hazy green eye blinking its thanks before he hissed and it scrunched closed again. Another shard of glass was removed from the back of his head and his jaw worked frantically against the pain, bite marks littering the pillow. Bruises had blossomed across the expanse of his back and one shoulder was swollen, blood and sweat matted in his hair and trickling down his brow.
Bobby spoke out again, voice filled with grim foreboding. "This last one is gunna hurt like a bitch, so brace yourselves."
Sam dared to watch as deft fingers slipped out the largest sliver yet. Dark blood oozed from a deep gash left behind.
Gripping his brother's hand harder Dean gave a strangled, helpless moan; crushing Sam's fingers in desperation, a tear squeezing itself out from between his eyelids.
Sam grimaced and grit his teeth as his brother ground his knuckles together.
"I just need to wash my hands, then I'm stitching all that up. Keep his shoulder iced and don't do anything stupid." Eyes narrowed. "Or should I say, more stupid. You two idjits..." he grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Give him some of those pills too," he added before leaving.
"Sammy..." Dean groaned hoarsely.
"Here, take a couple of these," he soothed; dry, bloodstained lips parting. Gently Sam tilted his brother's head, whispering his apologies when he whimpered before feeding in the tablets. Dean took a few sips of water and gave Sam a weak, pained smile.
"They'll start working soon," Bobby said as he walked back in, drying his hands with a towel. Dean sighed at the idea of sweet darkness and Sam slowly lowered his head back onto the pillow; saying nothing, only readjusting his brother's icepack. He sat quietly as Dean's eyelids began to droop and Bobby began the lengthy process of cleaning, staunching and stitching the wounds.
Bobby paused and smiled Sam's way. "He'll be fine. Don't worry, okay?"