Joking was about the only thing that Dean had inside of him that helped him cope with issues he was having, especially when he was sick. Downplaying everything was the only way to go. It wasn't that bad anyways. Really. Or so he kept telling himself.
He could see the sympathy on her face, the concentration in her voice as she spoke and talked about the herbs. The flowers definitely didn't look appetizing, but beggars couldn't really be choosers. There wasn't much else for options, so he took the little purple flowers and did as she asked, eating them. They tasted like he expected them to taste and he made a face, but reached for the glass of water he'd made himself earlier. She'd said to stay hydrated after all. "Well, that was gross," he muttered. "I'll be sure to let you know if I have those problems, but here's hoping that I don't." Hope was about all that he had at the moment.
"Saw that a bunch of people were sick. You taking care of all of them?"