E/O Challenge: Ridiculous
Birthday drabbles for Swellison (who wanted a minor holiday story with some hurt or sick Dean) and JA Carlton (who wanted hurt Dean). Hope these fit the bill and that you have a Happy Birthday!
The Winchesters watched in amazement as ghosts appeared out of the mist; British soldiers resplendent in their brilliant red coats.
"This is ridiculous," Dean muttered, opening fire on the oncoming army.
The rock salt, however, had little effect. The spectral brigade came to a halt, knelt and took aim.
"SAM ... LIGHT 'EM UP," Dean yelled as the sound of musket fire filled the air.
Moments later the Red Coats vanished in flames.
Sam ran to his brother's side, horrified by the red stain spreading across his shirt.
"Happy ... 4th of July ... S'mmy," Dean murmured, slipping into oblivion.
Dean writhed on the sweat-soaked bed as his brother struggled to remove the shredded pieces of musket-ball from his shoulder; the ancient bullet, ridiculously, had disintegrated on impact.
"God ... Sammy," he groaned. "Would ya ... hurry up."
"I'm sorry ... I gotta get it all," Sam grimaced, probing deeper into the already infected shoulder.
Dean blinked up with pain-filled eyes. "Why's it ... so hot?" he gasped.
"You're running a fever," Sam answered, certain now he'd extracted all of the shrapnel.
Slowly, methodically he began stitching the wound, grateful that Dean was finally unconscious and oblivious to the pain