Dislcaimer: Don't own it.
A/N: Happy b-day, Nana56! Sorry it was written in a bit of a hurry at *glances at clock* 6:15 Sunday evening...
o-o-o
Sam's heart throbbed. Dean's pulse was weak, his face too pale to be right. Things were beginning to look dire; they were still hours away from help, they had no reliable, current insurance to pay for a hospital... and Dean had been stuck at the bottom of that cliff for a long, long time before Sam had been able to reach him.
"Hey," Dean wheezed, wincing as his ribs shifted.
"Yeah?" Sam breathed, shifting to support his brother more easily.
"Get me a beer..."
A wide, relieved smile broke across Sam's face. There was a glimmer of hope after all.