[ It hurts, and Dean tips his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, pain registering on his face and spreading through his veins like fire. It hurts like hell. The wound in his arm doesn't come close to this; that bullet grazed him and while he likely needs stitches, it's got nothing on someone who isn't a medic digging a fucking round out of your leg.
Castiel also has no bedside manner. At all. ]
That doesn't make any sense. What kind of purpose? You want me to be a damn clergyman or something? [ Dean lets Castiel bandage him, watching for inevitable symptoms of exsanguination - pale, clammy skin. Shallow breathing. Dizziness, confusion. ]
no subject
[ It hurts, and Dean tips his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, pain registering on his face and spreading through his veins like fire. It hurts like hell. The wound in his arm doesn't come close to this; that bullet grazed him and while he likely needs stitches, it's got nothing on someone who isn't a medic digging a fucking round out of your leg.
Castiel also has no bedside manner. At all. ]
That doesn't make any sense. What kind of purpose? You want me to be a damn clergyman or something? [ Dean lets Castiel bandage him, watching for inevitable symptoms of exsanguination - pale, clammy skin. Shallow breathing. Dizziness, confusion. ]
I don't wanna be some preacher.