A little drabble written for the weekend challenge over on Fanfiction.net
Genre: Humour, Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Sam and Dean
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I don't own them!
Dean's in pain. he's also in denial.
"Dean, face facts; you need help."
"No you're not. Why can't you accept that you burnt both your hands, and now you need help. You can't pick up your food, so you're hungry; you can't wash properly, so you stink; you can't do your zipper up so your jeans keep falling down; you can't comb your hair so …"
"ALRIGHT, friggin' Florence Nightingale; I get the picture."
"Good, so will you let me help you?"
*sigh* "If I must."
"Yes, you must."
"Honestly Sam, you're ... hey, I don't stink!"
"Right, okay Dean, I guess you must have burnt your nose too."