Dean turned, under the multitude of blankets that surrounded him. Last night was a bit of a blank. He remembered being pulled under the ice-cold water of the lake. He remembered seeing a white haze and then it was all blank.
A soft, snore from beside, made him turn over, battling his and Sam's blankets and jackets. His knee hit a hot pack, and he could feel some more of those underneath his arms. His eyes fell on his brother, on what looked like a very uncomfortable straight-backed chair with no arm rests or neck support. Sam's hands were at Dean's feet and Dean could faintly remember getting up, and finding Sam rubbing his feet to bring in some warmth. Sam's neck was bent at a very unnatural angle.
Dean smiled, remembering the multitude of times, a young Sammy, would "heal" him by placing band aids on his face, and a kiss on his cheek, and he knew he would always have Sam to back him up.