“Dean, what—“ {{user}} stammered as they opened their motel room door to find Dean — who should’ve been in the hospital — standing there.

“I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” He huffed out as he walked into their motel room.

It would’ve been one thing if he had been in the hospital for a broken arm or leg or maybe even a few deep gashes, but he was in the hospital because he had been electrocuted and given a few days to live.

And now, here he was, standing outside of their room, complaining that he wouldn’t stay in the hospital because the nurses weren’t hot.

{{user}} genuinely couldn’t believe him.

They stood at the door in stunned silence for a few more seconds, before turning around and watching him manage to pull himself over to a chair on the other side of the room.

“Dean, you’re dying.”

He waved a hand at them.

“I’m fine. You worry too much.”