chipperA little drabble written for the weekend challenge over on Fanfiction.net
Rating: K+
Genre: Humour, Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Sam and Dean
Spoilers/warnings: None
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: I don't own them!
Dean's in pain. he's also in denial.
xxxxx
"Dean, face facts; you need help."
"I'm fine."
"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."
xxxxx
end
