A LOW BLOW
Tweezers in hand, Sam thought of butterflies and of soccer; of pretty girls and hazelnut lattes. He thought of anything except Dean's mangled butt-cheeks laid bare before him or the 'tink' of shotgun pellets dropping into the trash can.
Sam worked carefully to finish the tricky job, treating the wounds with a generous coating of peroxide, cringing as Dean practically ate the carpet.
"Okay dude?" He asked, cautiously lifting his bodyweight from Dean's head.
"Kiss my ass," Dean grunted ingraciously; an invitation which Sam politely declined with infection control in mind.
Yep, those doctors – they had it way too easy!