Dean scowled and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling it to him and opened it gently. "Come on, you need stitches." He said, tugging a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapping his hand. "Come on." He guided him into the living room. "Keep pressure on that, baby."
"Daddy cut his hand. Come here, you can help papa stitch him up." He said. He put Sam's hand in his lap and pulled the handkerchief off. "Breathe for me, Sammy." He said calmly, so much more used to this than he should be. He uncorked the whiskey and dumped a little over Sam's hand.
"Right. Says the guy who has a four inch gaping wound in his paw." Dean muttered as he knotted the string. "Grab me the gauze, Mark." He said softly, picking up the bottle and pouring some more to clean and sterilize the shut wound.
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