Dean didn't really see it as a weakness, or anything like that. Zombies were just creepy. Even before he'd encountered them, they'd been creepy. And once he'd looked Bobby's dead wife in the eye and seen her cooking in the kitchen, making pies... well, that clinched it. At least this group had been more shambly and less... able to manipulate objects. Like doorknobs. Dean shivered at the memory.
Dean nodded. He'd figured the wound was safe. He'd call Bobby later or get Harry to look it over, just to be sure.
"Yep, this is what I do," Dean said. "Pay's non-existant, everything wants to kill or maim you, and sometimes things are really bad." He snorted a laugh at his own statement.
"Look, I don't want to make a thing of it, but... what do you do? When it's a full moon?"