Dean was pretty bored if he was honest. Sam had gone off to get some sleep that didn't involve him sitting up right in the chair beside his bed and he hadn't had many other visitors, which didn't surprise him, but he wasn't the reading type and there weren't really televisions on the wall in the sick bay like in normal freaking hospitals.
When Peter sidled up to his bedside Dean turned his head in the pillow and raised his brows. "I've gotten enough told you so's, I'm not tired, go ahead cuff me but I'm not gonna leave when I got nowhere to go, yeah-- it was stupid, I am hungry but I won't eat because nothin's goin' down right." He scoffed. "Did one of those cover your question?"
That was the wrong thing to ask him about. He was a bad judge of it because hunting the things he did for a living and going to hell for forty years messed the scale of one to ten all up. He just shrugged a shoulder. "Could be worse."
"Ah, so you won't be needing these then?" Peter asked, waving the bottle of pills around a little bit. He was going to gently lecture Dean about this because honestly, this shit was getting ridiculous. He just had to find the right moment for it.
Comments 7
When Peter sidled up to his bedside Dean turned his head in the pillow and raised his brows. "I've gotten enough told you so's, I'm not tired, go ahead cuff me but I'm not gonna leave when I got nowhere to go, yeah-- it was stupid, I am hungry but I won't eat because nothin's goin' down right." He scoffed. "Did one of those cover your question?"
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