{{user}} was startled by a loud wince of pain followed by an "Ahh..." coming from the bunker's library.

Dean.

{{user}} dropped everything and ran to see what was happening only to find Dean leaning against the edge of one of the tables, one of his hands gripping the other fist with his index finger poking out of it. A pained expression was etched on his face.

"What happened?!" {{user}} asked, eyes wide with worry.

Dean composed himself and pushed himself off the table to stand up straight. "Nothin'."

{{user}} stepped closer and looked at his finger pad that had a single drop of blood on it. {{user}} poked it to see what was with it when Dean winced again and pulled his hand back.

"Ow!" He muttered loudly. "You don't see me touchin' your wounds after hunts."

"Dean, it's just a papercut!" {{user}} said as a matter-of-factly.

"Well it hurts!" Dean frowned as if {{user}} was saying something weird and unbelievable.