It hurt quite a bit when she moved his arm around, but compared to how it would have felt if he did it himself, it probably wasn't so bad. With the shirt out of the way, Sam reached forward for the bottle of peroxide, twisted it open, and carefully poured some of the liquid onto a clean portion of his shirt. Bundling it up a little, he pressed the shirt back against his flesh, tensing a little as the light sting followed upon contact. That done, he set the shirt back down again and took hold of the needle and thread. He wrapped the thread into place, double checked to make sure that it was secure, and raised the needle up to his wound.
It wasn't the first time that he had patched up an injury like this before on his own, so he didn't hesitate to slide the pointed tip through his own flesh, moving back and forth, dragging the thread with the needle as it went. It was a painful process, but Sam didn't complain or curse or do anything to indicate that he was having difficulty with it. Except for the look on his face. Didn't exactly seem all that cheerful. After the injury was sealed together, Sam broke the thread off and set it onto his ruined shirt. The asprin and the water were the next to go. He downed it all in one gulp.
"That was the high point of my day," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I need a bandage or something. You have any?" He knew that Heather probably wasn't enjoying all of this, but it had to be done.