[ How he got embroiled himself in magic quite so suddenly, Dean doesn't know. But he's never been fond of it, never been okay with this kind of thing, and even though Sam seems to have moved on completely to accepting things that Dean still doesn't, all he wants to do is tumble off the table and walk away. It's not even entirely the fact that he doesn't like the medical community, it's the sudden realization that magic is going to be tossed near effortlessly in his face and he'd really rather it not be.
But- the threat of being tied down in an effort to deal with him is equally unpleasant. Doesn't mean he doesn't want to try though.
His first inclination is to kick someone, anyone, possibly in the head. And while he doesn't, the fact still remains that he'd like to do it something fierce. And being both quiet and forced to lie still is enough to make him near want to pull out his hair, a kind of frustration that he doesn't exactly know how to put words to when it goes against all the things he believes.
At least the whole thing is over relatively painlessly (and it likely helps that he can't see any of it), even if he doesn't like a single second of it. Though he can't lie about the fact that he appreciates it, whoever this is. And appreciates the hand on his shoulder reminding him that Sam hasn't truly gone anywhere - that he hasn't lost everyone - a fact that he still wants to shove away out of paranoia and a need to keep everyone fiercely at a distance.
But he really would like to get up now. Can he get up now? He's going to try to get up now. And he's going to grumble in the process, practically trying to shake everyone off. Let's watch him near fall off the bed. ]
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But- the threat of being tied down in an effort to deal with him is equally unpleasant. Doesn't mean he doesn't want to try though.
His first inclination is to kick someone, anyone, possibly in the head. And while he doesn't, the fact still remains that he'd like to do it something fierce. And being both quiet and forced to lie still is enough to make him near want to pull out his hair, a kind of frustration that he doesn't exactly know how to put words to when it goes against all the things he believes.
At least the whole thing is over relatively painlessly (and it likely helps that he can't see any of it), even if he doesn't like a single second of it. Though he can't lie about the fact that he appreciates it, whoever this is. And appreciates the hand on his shoulder reminding him that Sam hasn't truly gone anywhere - that he hasn't lost everyone - a fact that he still wants to shove away out of paranoia and a need to keep everyone fiercely at a distance.
But he really would like to get up now. Can he get up now? He's going to try to get up now. And he's going to grumble in the process, practically trying to shake everyone off. Let's watch him near fall off the bed. ]
I'm not gonna go into shock.