It's one of life's first lessons: you do something stupid, you will suffer. It's a lesson that someone we know and love hasn't quite got the hang of yet.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, it's desperately sad really.


The creature's bite had gone deep.

Dean hissed in pain as Sam pressed a damp towel against his bloody bicep; "arm's goin' numb," he croaked breathlessly through clenched teeth, experimentally flexing his fingers in his lap and gulping deeply against an overpowering nausea.

"I can't believe I let that friggin' thing bite me," he muttered shakily; vision swimming as shock began to grip his body, driving his heart into a rapid and dizzying cadence.

Sam gently lifted the bloodsoaked towel away to inspect the wound, "it's your own fault," he scolded.

"You should have known better than to take Rumsfeldt's ball away.