Disclaimer: Don't own them, and this is just proof, if it were needed, that life isn't fair!GIMME A BREAK
Word Count: 100
Dean's having a hard time, but Sam just knows he's the one that's going to suffer!
Spoilers: Inspired by events in 7.03 The Girl Next Door, however bears no resemblance to canon
Running from just above Dean's right knee, it ended at his foot where only five perky little toes poked timidly out of the end of it.
At the other end of the heavy white plastercast, the expression on Dean's face was anything but perky; his former droopy morphine-induced smile having been replaced by a thunderous frown after medics had imparted the bombshell that he would be in plaster for eight weeks.
Eight weeks of caring for a grumpy, impatient, unco-operative, immobile big brother with mood swings of menopausal proportions and a thirty pound sledgehammer wrapped round his leg.
Sam felt faint at the thought.
THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM
Word Count: 200
Sometimes, where unco-operative, pain in the ass big brothers are concerned, it's better just to spare the sugarcoating and tell it like it is!
It was becoming uncomfortable to watch as Dean laboured miserably through yet another bowl of soup.
Eventually, Sam cracked; "alright, which tooth is it?"
Dean winced, "don' know what you mean"
"Your face looks like you're auditioning for Alvin and the Chipmunks," Sam replied; "you're only eating soup, our Vicodin keep disappearing. That's what I mean."
Dean manufactured a menacing glare but Sam persisted regardless.
"Is it your wisdom teeth?"
The glare twitched and Dean sighed, shaking his head; "no, tooth broke last week."
Sam gasped; "last week?"
"Dean, you need a dentist," Sam coaxed; "if you've broken a tooth, you could get an infection, or an abscess. It'd be agony and you'd have pus leaking into your mouth and you might get blood poisoning and die."
"Do you know how much I hate you right now?"
Sam grinned; it was a white flag in the face of insurmountable logic.
He tossed a couple of bills on the table, and guided Dean out of the diner in search of a dentist.
Two hours later, Sam watched his queasily grey, drug-addled brother stumble shakily from the dentist's treatment room, a bead of drool glistening on his chin.
"Shamby; abshesth would've been easshhier …"