Sam stumbled out of the driver's side of the car, his oversized feet no match for the challenge of coordination at 4 A.M.
He reached into the back seat and pulled out a jeans clad, leather jacket wearing, completely incoherent older brother.
Dean had a bump growing over his eye the size of a goose egg, and smelled like he just climbed out of a vat of hops and barley malt.
The incoming bruise under Dean's eye was glinting purple in the dim light.
Sam smiled and helped Dean get in bed, glad he was OK.
"Sammy… thanks." Dean mumbled.