Disclaimer: the usual - the characters belong to the Supernatural guys. Don't we all just hate them!

Dean sits on the hotel bed flipping the stations. He glances at the bathroom door again, then yells.

"Dude, are you ever coming out of there?"

"No." Dean hears Sam's response. He stands, walks to the door, and tries to turn the knob.

"Open the door." The door clicks open slightly. Dean pushes his way in. "Let me see it." Sam raises his right hand. It's wrapped in a lot of white bandage, blood seeping straight through. "Not you're lame ass bandage job, the actual cut." He grabs for Sam's hand. Sam pulls away, guarding his hand with his body.

"No! Get off. I just got it wrapped. I'm not pulling this off again."

"The way the blood's coming through you're gonna have to change it in five minutes anyway." Sam drops his arms and stares at him blankly.

"Come on." Dean flicks his fingers towards himself urging Sam to pass over his hand. Sam sighs half frustrated, half defeated and holds out his hand. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and doesn't look back down until…

"Owe!" He tightens his lips and glares at Dean. Dean glances up briefly as he continues to unravel the bandage.

"Sorry," Dean adds quickly. Sam sighs and looks away again. Dean pulls off the remainder of the bandage. It's soaked in blood and the gash across the palm continues to gush blood. "Dude, this is gross."

"Is that your expert opinion?" Asks Sam. Dean looks up at Sam seriously.


"Let go." Sam pulls his hand away and holds it over the sink. He stares at it as the blood runs through the fold of his hand and onto the porcelain. "You're right. It is gross." The color drops from Sam's face. Dean dumps a pile of butterfly closures on the counter.

"Why didn't you use the butterfly closers like I told you to?"

"I don't trust those things."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I'm serious. Besides, you're suppose to use super glue."


"Super glue," Sam insists, "to seal the cut."

"Oh, that sounds sanitary."

"Actually, it is.

"Okay college boy. Here." Dean presses a small bath towel on the gash. "Hold this." He lets go. Sam grabs the towel with his uninjured hand, lifts it off the cut, and as told, 'holds it'. Dean just looks at him. He grabs Sam's hand and lowers the towel back down. "On the cut."

"Oh." Sam realizes.

Dean shakes his head and starts to open the butterfly bandages. He exposes the adhesive and lines them up, sticking them off the edge of the sink. He shoots a quick look at his Brother.

"Are you okay? You're as white as the sink."

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"How much blood have you lost?" Dean places another bandage in line.

"I don't know. I lost count around the fifth handful."

"Maybe you should sit down."

"Maybe you should stick those on me, instead of the sink."

"Fine." Dean pulls the towel off Sam's hand. The gash oozes out a thick swell of dark blood. Sam takes one look at it and passes out. He tilts over sideways, taking both Dean and the butterfly closures down with him.

"Woah!" Dean is squashed under Sam's weight. "How can you be this heavy… erah!" He strains, trying and failing to push Sam up. "…when you just lost all that blood?" He rolls Sam off of him and back into a sitting position against the tub. He grabs Sam's hand, and reaches for one of the butterfly closures. They're a mess, stuck to each other and themselves. "Dude… you screwed up my butterflies!" He shakes his head and grabs a small pile of new closures. As he starts to seal the cut, Sam wakes up. He looks around groggy.

"How'd we get on the floor?"

"The butterfly closures went berserk, we had to duck and cover." Dean jerks a thumb towards the ones stuck to the sink.

"Oh." Sam squints, getting a better look. "Told you not to trust 'em." Dean laughs. Sam leans his head back, with a slight smile.

"Yeah, I really need to learn how to listen to you," Dean agrees sarcastically. He finishes with the closures, and wraps Sam's hand in a new white bandage. "You still with me there?" Dean asks, glancing at his Brother with slight concern. Sam leans forward and opens his eyes. He sighs a deep breath.

"Do I have to look at the cut again?" Dean puts a final piece of tape on the bandage.


"Than I'm fine."

"Think you can make it to the bed?" Dean says standing.

"If it's next to the toilet."

"Wow, you are hilarious tonight. You'd make a great sit down comic." Sam looks up.

"Are you gonna help me, or heckle me?" Dean holds out a hand. Sam looks at his injury, then at Dean.

"Right." Dean reaches down and helps Sam to his feet. Sam reaches his good hand across Dean's back, and they stumble through the room towards the bed. "Again," Dean complains, "why are you so damn heavy?".

"Well, ya know, you got the looks. And I got the…"

"Dude! Don't even go there!" Dean dumps Sam on the bed. Sam snickers and pulls himself back towards the headboard, lying down.

"So… happy I finally let you take care of me?" Dean looks at him like he's crazy.

"Oh yeah, thrilled. I mean, why get a job when I've got you twenty-four seven? Except, ya know, the pay is crap."

"True, but the health benefits kick ass."

"Oh, that reminds me." Dean smiles as he drops onto the other bed. "I'm not in your PPO plan. You own me a hundred and twenty eight dollars." He shuts the light off. "Goodnight!" Sam sighs and pulls the covers over himself as he listens to his Brother snicker.

"It's good to know you can still crack yourself up."

"Yeah…" Dean continues to laugh. "I'm a funny guy." Sam cracks up.

"You're an idiot." Sam rolls over. It's quiet for a moment. Then Dean cracks up again.

"What?" Sam has to know.

"Sit down comic!" Dean's giggles surge.

"Goodnight Dean." Dean's giggles die down. He lets out a big sigh.

"Whoooo! Night Sammy."

Hope you liked. Don't forget to check out chapter 2 - A Brother's Bond.

And reviews make my day - so all are appreciated - the good, the bad, and the constructive. Thanks!