DOWNTIME
Dean threw another log onto the fire, watched as sparks flew up into the night sky.
Ignoring the tired ache in his thighs, he crouched down and held his hands out to the flames, sighing with relief as the heat sank in.
Behind him, Sam zipped up the tent and went to the cooler, pulling out the steaks and potatoes they'd bought earlier. He wrapped the potatoes in foil, stuck sharpened sticks through the steaks, put them aside. Got a couple of beers from the cooler, tossed one to his brother.
Dean grinned up at him. "Camping doesn't always suck."