… AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

WOW: beat. Is Sam getting the real story – or not? You decide!

Disclaimer: I don't own them

xxxxx

In the bunker's kitchen, Sam prowled protectively around Dean, angrily watching his older sibling as he gingerly pressed an icepack against blossoming bruises on his rapidly swelling cheekbone and jaw.

"So, are you gonna tell me who did it?" Sam snarled; "who beat you up?"

"Told you," Dean grumbled, his words muffled by a split lip; "no-one did it, I – uh – walked into a door."

"Sure you did, Dean," Sam snorted, throwing his arms up in exasperation; "your broken face is all because you walked into a door, and nothing at all to do with those four redneck inbreds you were hustling pool with?"

"Honestly, Sam, it was a door, just a door," Dean repeated; "no-one beat me up."

"Dean, you'd better start telling me the truth right now, otherwise I'm going out there and I'm gonna hunt those bastards down if it takes me forever to find them."

Dean signed. "Sam, for the last time, it was a door, I walked into a frigging door!"

"You expect me to believe you did all that damage just from walking into a door?"

Dean shrugged, wincing as bruised ribs announced their presence.

"Yeah, well, It was a revolving door," he muttered.

xxxxx

end