A/N: This is for Phoebe, whose Winchesterly banter cracks me up and whose caretaker-Sam I have a giant crush on. Happy birthday, madam! Enkidu07 and hoodietime gave me speedy speedy gentle betas because they're awesome.

Mr. Dent goes up in smoke.

"Ugh. Finally." Panting, Sam turns. Dean's on the carpet, struggling up onto his ass. "You OK?"

Dean's bottom lip's puffed out and seeping blood. Sam crouches. Wet eyes find his.

"Hey. You good, man?"

Dean makes a choking sound, blanches and sinks back down.

"Lemme see."

Dean glares.

"Please? I promise I won't laugh."

Dean rolls his eyes, then sighs and bares his teeth.

"Oh shit!" Sam guffaws into his sleeve. He gets the finger.

At the hospital exit Sam stops the wheelchair.

Dean boosts himself up on shaky arms. He looks down at the pavement like it's a living dinosaur. With a dry swallow and a shake of his head he sinks back down. One hand flaps at the car.

Sam rolls him closer.

"Rinse time."

Dean blinks up, bright-eyed and bed-headed. Sam feeds the tube between his teeth. "Ready?"

He squirts. The water flows down Dean's chin and soaks his T-shirt. Dean just looks at the wet cotton.

"Crap. Sorry." Sam thumbs Dean's upper lip, squints at the hose. "Here, see if you can get it to go farther in."

Dean takes the length of rubber, appraises it and tries to stuff it up Sam's nose.

"HIH-XXXHH! Unhhh, sunnamabish."

Dean's cradling his jaw when Sam brings over the protein shake.

"What's up, kiddo?"

"Hhh-HH-XXPFK!" Dean hisses."Gonnammit." His hand trails strands of spit and blood.

Sam frowns and passes the tissues. "You don't look so hot."

Sam rates it as the grossest cold Dean's ever had.

That includes that time in Seattle.

In public Dean pretends he's deaf. He carries around a reporter's pad and uses it to order milkshakes.

"Sheksheer noo mee neff," he confides to Sam, the metal glinting in his mouth.

Sam doesn't get how that much ice cream can make anyone skinny.

Ten minutes after the wires come out, Sam and Dean are at a brewpub.

"Three bacon cheeseburgers, extra onions. Three fries. And whatever he's having."

Sam watches the meat juice drip down his chin. Dean's eyes narrow in bliss.

"How you doing over there?"

Dean chokes on an ambitious mouthful, swallows and lets out a shivery breath. Enlightened eyes meet Sam's. "There are no words."

end