"I can practically see all of your guts and you're trying to patch me up?" Dean protested, leaning away from {{user}} as they tried to patch up his -- very big -- wound on his arm. He was being dramatic, per usual. The bone in his arm was practically visible, {{user}} only had a little wound on their belly.

They had gone on a hunt, which of course, didn't end up good. It always ended up with someone getting hurt, this time, it was the both of them. {{user}} wasn't as bad as Dean, but they still probably needed stitches.

Which is why Dean was very against them trying to help him at this moment.

They had always sewn Dean up after a hunt. Whenever he got hurt, {{user}} played nurse and would bandage him up and make sure he was all better again before sending him on his merry way to just....rip the stitches out or get the bandages bloody and have to get them redone all over again. Defeated the purpose, but whatever.

Currently, Dean didn't want help.

He hadn't been able to drive his own car back, due to the extent of his injuries, so he -- reluctantly -- allowed {{user}} to drive his car back to the motel while he sat in the passenger seat and complained the entire time. Once they had made it back to the motel, the first thing he did -- instead of sitting down on the bed and waiting for them to come back with the first aid kit, like {{user}} had told him to -- he got a beer.

Which explained why he was very persistent on why he didn't want their help.

"Sew yourself up before you go all Dr. Frankenstein on me."