BURNING MEMORIES

Epilogue

A brief glimpse (post-main story) at the boys' peaceful and idyllic recovery under the loving care of their dear old friend, Bobby.

xxxxx

The morning sun streamed through dusty windows as Dean stared in disbelief at his brother.

"What d'ya mean I can't have a shower?" he snorted, "I stink – I wanna shower."

Sam shook his head in exasperation and paced up and down the faded carpet, "did you even listen to a word the doctor said?"

"What kinda stupid question is that?" Dean glared at his brother, "course I didn't – that's your job!"

Sam pointed to the expanse of gauze strapped to his brother's side. "Dude, you've got to keep your burn clean and dry. Dry means not wet, Dean; that means NO SHOWER!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do then?" Dean snapped petulantly, sitting on the bed clutching his towel.

In a discreet corner of the room, Bobby leaned against the wall, quietly watching the increasingly irritable exchange with growing amusement.

"Well", sighed Sam; "for the time being, you'll have to shove your stupid bullet-headed pride up your ass and accept some help with getting a wash."

Dean huffed irritably, "Oh yeah, you'd just love that." He reluctantly stood, gathering up his towel, "come on, Florence, better get to work then."

Sam shrugged, and held two bandaged hands up, "sorry, bro' - sorta needing a little bit of help myself at the moment."

Dean gaped, and dropped back down onto the bed; "Oh crap; well, then who can … how … ?"

Bobby leaned out of the shadows into Dean's line of vision and waved.

A long silence was followed by a weak splutter … "You've GOT to be kiddin' me …"

"Sorry dude," Sam smiled apologetically, "why else do you think we came to Bobby's place once we left the hospital?"

Nurse Bobby strolled casually across the room, "Well then ladies, I'm going to run the bath; who wants to go first?" He glanced across at the brothers with a wicked smile, "don't forget your powder puffs."

"Take me back to the hospital …" pleaded Dean.

xxxxx

Sam pulled Peter out of Dean's duffel, and sat on the bed next to his shell-shocked brother.

"Glad you kept this bro'," he muttered nervously, listening to Bobby's tuneless singing over the splashing bathwater; "we might need someone to protect us over the next few weeks!"

The brothers sighed in unison; hell, this was going to be one long recovery …

xxxxx

Really the end!