A/N: This is dedicated to the lovely and talented J.A. Carlton, without whose constant encouragement and gentle butt kicking, this would never have been finished. Thanks, hon.

Thanks also to Household6 for the awesome beta and encouragement she gave. It's a much better story now.

I don't own anything Supernatural...it all belongs to Kripke and the CW.

This is set sometime in Season 2, but no real spoilers.

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It'd been days since the brothers' last gig, and they were enjoying the respite. They were in the middle of the same discussion they had had on any number of occasions, the one where Sam never gave up and Dean always came back with the same rebuttals. It had become a comfortable routine to pass the time that left both brothers completely relaxed.

On this day, they had no particular destination in mind and were merely driving in a direction that had been picked randomly the day before. No hunts had been showing up, making the ride a leisurely one.

The black Impala rumbled as she headed up a curvy mountain road. The view was breathtaking. The sun was warm, but it was a crisp fall day so the brothers' windows were down to enjoy the fresh mountain air. Occasionally, there would be a patch of snow or ice on the road in shady areas as they gained altitude, but nothing significant that Dean couldn't expertly avoid.

"Dude, you just don't get it." Dean gave his lopsided grin as he looked over at his brother. "Classic rock is the only music my baby wants to play, and AC/DC is one of the greatest bands to ever live! You need to work on your standards."

"I'm not saying they're not, not at all!" Sam really was trying to be reasonable, but his older brother could just be so… "I'm just saying that you might like to try another genre, just to see." He put his hands up in defense at his brother's look. "I'm sure your baby," Sam patted her dashboard, "wouldn't mind trying something different just once."

"I'm not going to put her through that, Sam. She's got discerning taste and she won't like it. Besides, we don't have any other type of music. Even if she wanted to, I'm not going to spend hard-earned cash just to try it."

Sam had heard that argument before, too, so he was ready this time. "I happen to have a different tape with me today, Dean. The library we were in last night had a music exchange area and I found this." His smile was triumphant as he held up a tape of Barry Manilow's Greatest Hits.

Dean looked at his brother in horror at the very thought of that thing even being in his car, for a joke or otherwise. He was so distracted that he didn't see the large patch of ice in the shade of the big pine trees on the next turn until the tires started slipping. He began fighting for control, but it was too late, and the muscle car headed for the drop off.

Sam dropped the tape he was holding then braced his right hand on the dashboard and his left hand on the back of the seat behind Dean. Not that it took much with his height, he still pushed his feet on the floor as hard as he could.

For his part, Dean had a death-grip on the steering wheel as he continued to fight for control to no avail. "Hang on, Sammy. I can't get her back!"

As the car slipped over the drop off sideways, the momentum took her out into space. She began to turn over and spin at a greater speed as she began her descent. As Sam lost his grip on the dashboard and seat back, he heard Dean scream his name. While he could feel his brother trying to catch on to any part of his body or clothing, making a desperate grab for him. As he flew around the inside of the car, his own hands tried to find purchase on any part of the car to remain inside. The spinning motion of the car made it impossible to get hold of anything causing Sam's body to bump and bounce out the open passenger window. His last sight was the horrified look on his brother's face as he headed for the trees.

Dean's loss of grip on the steering wheel as he frantically tried to grab his brother, his inability to regain his hold on the wheel as his body bounced around the inside of the car, and the continued spin of the car ejected him out of the open driver's window into the trees below.

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Sam hurt everywhere. He didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to go back to the darkness, away from the pain. This wasn't right…His left arm was a mass of agony, and his right ankle felt almost as bad. 'Where am I? Am I upside down? What the hell happened?'

"Dean?"

No answer.

"Dean!"

No answer.

Sam opened his eyes to nothing but huge Ponderosa pines all around — no sky and no ground at all. Was he stuck in a tree? Confused, he called for his brother once more.

"DEAN!"

Receiving no answer except the echo of his own scream, he looked around and began trying to get himself righted. The pain in his left arm became white hot as he reached to grab a branch. 'Okay, not a good idea. Personal inventory first.' Panting and trying not to pass out this time, Sam breathed through the pain and tried to think clearly. 'Left arm broken. Check. Gotta be careful with that.'

Carefully, Sam let go of the branch he realized he was holding with his right hand, not fully releasing his grip until he was certain that he wouldn't fall without it. He reached over his body to check where his left arm was broken and found it was the radius. At least, the broken bone could be supported by the ulna. It also didn't appear to be a dislocated break. Those were two very good things, if anything about a broken bone could be called 'good'. He needed to stabilize it somehow, though. Taking his left wrist with his right hand, he gritted his teeth and pulled the injured limb across his body and tucked his hand into his shirt.

'Okay, what's next?' he blew out a breath. Resting in the branch, he began gently moving each part of his body. Nothing seemed too bad — just going to be sore and bruised tomorrow — until he came to his right ankle. He sucked in a breath. He couldn't reach it to tell if it was broken, but it hurt like hell.

Nothing else seemed to be broken, but he could tell by the blood running down his face that he had a gash on his forehead. Carefully feeling around the wound, Sam decided that it wasn't as serious as the amount of blood seemed to indicate, although there was a huge lump to go along with it. 'I hope. Maybe a stitch or two, or a couple of butterflies should take care of it. Head wounds bleed a lot. The first aid kit's in the car with everything I need. Dean'll take care of it…if I can find him.'

One branch at a time, Sam began the arduous process of getting himself down without further injury and without the use of two of his limbs. As he got himself into a rhythm, he began to worry about Dean again. It had been some time, and his brother hadn't answered him. Sam was more than a little afraid of the fact that he hadn't heard his brother calling for him either. Sam was sure his brother was either unconscious, too far away to be heard, or the third choice which was not even an option. They just needed to get back together was all. Everything would be alright then.

Sam suddenly realized he was at the bottom of the branches when he could see the ground and the branches became further apart. He sat on the bottom-most branch and studied the ground below. In good health, he would have just made the jump and let his knees fold and his body roll to reduce the shock. Not so easily done this time.

Deciding there really was no other option, Sam began to ease his way off of the branch, letting his good arm and good leg hold him to the bottom of it. He made sure that his hand had a good grip on the branch and slowly let his left leg let go of the branch until his right hand was all that held him up. He was suddenly very thankful for all the strength training that he and Dean had done that had left the calluses on his hands. It still appeared there was a good eight feet from his feet to the ground, but Sam took a deep breath, held his injured ankle up in a feeble attempt to protect it, and let go.

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The first thing that Dean became aware of when he came to was the cold. The second thing that touched his awareness was that he couldn't move and that it was sort of hard to breathe.

Opening his eyes, he realized that he was looking at the top of the Impala. 'What the hell?' Blinking and trying to look around to make sure what he was seeing, he registered only tall trees and the top of his car.

"Sam?"

Birds chirping.

"Sam!"

'Damn birds... Where the hell is Sam?'

"SAMMY!"

He felt the icy coldness of fear stab his insides; his little brother was missing or…or nothing. He had to find his little brother. He might be hurt.

Slowly, Dean took a physical inventory of himself. He could feel his legs; they didn't seem too bad, but he couldn't move them. There must be a dip in the forest floor under his legs, as the drivers door of the Impala wasn't crushing them, they just seemed stuck. Hips: okay, sore, but most likely bruised. Stomach: not bad, but God, his chest hurt. Bruised, cracked or broken ribs, probably. Right arm: good, might even be able to get it free if he tried. Left arm: stuck, big time.

He seemed to be lying on a soft surface,; soft was good, if he'd landed on a hard surface, he would have died on impact. As he raised and turned his head, he realized he was on the mossy cushion of a forest floor of pine needles and other leaves. He also realized he shouldn't do that again when there was a sharp, shooting pain in his neck and left shoulder. Dean let his head fall back, breathing through the pain and blinking at the scene above him. More trees. Suddenly, he felt he was not terribly fond of trees. On the other hand, as he looked around and saw some pretty serious damage to some of them, he was grateful for the slowing resistance they had offered the car and her occupants. The tree line was scarred with the effects of the fight with the steering wheel and the slide off the road, bringing the memory barreling back to him like a thundering herd. The trees had probably saved his life, but…

Panic set in full force this time.

"SAMMY! Answer me, goddammit!" Dean almost sobbed with the effort to yell. His chest was hurting like a sonofabitch, and the breathing was still too hard. He had to keep the yelling at a minimum if he was going to get out of here and find his brother.

Not hearing an answer, he began frantically trying to work his right arm free. He wasn't sure what would come next, but one thing at a time. He found that he could move that arm a little side to side, and as he did so, he could feel the pine needles move slightly under it to give a little more space. The weight became a little less and Dean's concentration became more intense. Back and forth and back and forth. Soon, he was able to begin to pull it up so that his elbow could bend a little. Encouraged, he worked faster…back and forth and pull…back and forth and pull. Suddenly, his arm was free, eliciting a whoop of joy.

Such was his excitement that he almost didn't hear the faint sound of a voice calling his name. He shut up instantly and listened.

"Dean?"

It sounded so far away, but it was Sam.

"SAM!" Pain shot through his chest and neck.

"DEAN!"

Sam was closer now and would find him. Rather than yelling, Dean decided to use the Impala as a signal. Using his free hand, he made a fist and banged on the top of the car.

"I'm sorry, baby, but it's the only way Sammy can find us."

Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang.

"I'm coming!"

That much-closer yell was accompanied by a lot of noise that sounded like scraping and falling and some cursing. Dean tried to twist his head around to see where the noise was coming from but saw only more trees, which became blurred by the stars that appeared from the pain he felt from the movement.

Suddenly, a blurry upside down image of his brother came from the trees and staggered toward him. Dean frowned, blinking at the sight as he tried to make out what was wrong. Sam's face was covered in blood with a poorly tied bit of cloth around his head, and his left — left? yes, left — arm was tucked into the front of his shirt. His right hand was holding a large branch that he was using as a walking stick and his right ankle was wrapped with part of his shirt. He looked awful, but he was beautiful. Dean was so relieved his brother was there and alive that he was sure whatever was wrong could be fixed.

"Sammy, you okay?"

"Not really, but I'll live. You're in a lot worse condition than I am, it looks like." Sam used the branch to lower himself next to his brother with a grunt.

"What's wrong? Why is your hand in your shirt? What's wrong with your ankle?" Dean was worried and grabbing at his brother with his free arm. The pain caused by his rapid movement was taking his breath away, but he had to find out what was wrong with Sam. "Your head's bleeding."

Batting his brother's hand away, Sam tried to speak rationally to him. "Dean, stop it! I'll live. Oh, I've got a headache, though. Okay?"

"Where've you been? I was worried about you."

"Woke up in a tree. Took some time to get down. Guess the tree broke my fall when I was thrown out of the car. What's up here? You got anything broken?"

"You woke up in a tree? Like Tarzan?"

At Sam's glare, Dean thought it wise to answer the question. There would be time for joking around later. He'd been so relieved to see his brother he couldn't help himself.

"I don't know for sure. God knows I love my baby, but I think she needs to come off of me really soon."

Nodding, Sam used his one good ankle to force himself up against the roof of the Impala.

"Getting you out from under the car is the first order of business. If I can get her high enough, you think you can wiggle out?"

"I'll try, Sammy, but she's awfully heavy." Dean patted the roof. 'Sorry…no offense.'

Sam leaned into the roof of the Impala with all of his weight and what strength he had left to no avail. The big black car was just too heavy, or stuck, or something. Sam tried and tried then finally banged his fist into the roof in frustration.

"Hey! It's not her fault. She didn't land on me on purpose, you know." Dean sent his brother an angry glare at the abuse laid on his baby.

"I'm sorry. I know…Hey, have you seen the jack? It looks like there might be enough of a gap that we could squeeze that in there to get some height."

Sam hobbled to the rear of the Impala and found that the trunk lid had been sprung. Various debris from the trunk lay scattered about; his eyes quickly scanned the area to see if the jack was there. It wasn't — at least, not close by. He tried to open the lid further to get in, but it was pretty stuck to the ground. He was only able to move it a couple of inches. It would have to do.

Carefully leaning so as not to jar his broken arm, he rummaged through the items left in the trunk. Weapons, salt, holy water…no jack. Pulling himself back out of the car, he scanned the items on the ground more carefully and was disappointed to realize the debris was all the way to the trees. Who knew how much of it was scattered too far away to even consider looking... The way the car had been spinning when he last saw her, it was probably close to a mile.

"The jack's gone."

Dean had been patiently waiting for his brother to bring the jack and get this fucking car off of him. He pounded his right fist into the ground. 'Sorry, baby!' He remembered himself and smoothed his hand over the roof.

"I need a fulcrum to raise her. I'll be right back." Sam limped off to find a stone large enough and a branch strong enough to use to lift the car.

"It's gonna be dark soon; don't be gone too long. I don't want you out there all by yourself when the sun goes down!"

"Don't worry. I won't be long," Sam called over his shoulder.

'Uh huh. That'll be the day.' Dean settled in to wait.

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Sam's ankle really hurt, but he was at least able to walk with the help of the branch. A walking stick was all he'd been able to come up with. Trying to keep the pain at bay, he looked around the forest floor as he hobbled along. He needed to find a nice-sized stone, at least. He might be able to use his walking stick as the lever, but that wouldn't do much good without the stone to brace it against.

'Actually, I need several stones to put under the car as I lift it. I need to keep the weight off of Dean if it'll only go up so far. If she'll just raise up a little, I can rest her on the stones and Dean can wriggle out…or I can pull him if he can't do it himself.'

Suddenly, Sam heard the faint sound of running water. Hesitating only a moment to be sure of the sound and the direction, Sam headed toward the sound, thinking that there were usually stones around a stream.

The stream turned out to be a gold mine of pebbles. Pebbles, however, were not what was needed for the job at hand. Sam needed some good, sturdy rocks. Looking downstream toward a sound of rushing water, Sam decided to head in that direction and see what he could find. He found a small waterfall.

It looked very promising as the water was churning quite a bit. Sam used his walking stick to poke at the apparently large rocks close to the shore and managed to break one free without dislodging it enough to wash away. Sam let out a combination grunt and groan as he went to his knees to reach the rock. His injured ankle screamed its protest as he nearly lost his balance and fell in. Catching himself caused his left arm to rise up in anger, forcing a yelp he couldn't stifle.

"Sammy?" came from the distance. Sam grimaced. He didn't think he'd been loud enough for Dean to hear.

"I'm okay, Dean. Just getting the rock I need. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"Be careful!" elicited an eye roll from Sam.

"I will."

Sam took off what was left of his shirt, loading the rock and a smaller version into it. He tied the knot with the help of his teeth and managed to get it through a belt loop. He'd be walking with a list to the side, but it was the best he could do. He headed back to his brother with his prizes.

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Dean jumped at the sound of his brother's yelp. "Sam?"

"I'm okay. Just getting the rock I need. I'll be back in a couple of minutes," came Sam's voice from a distance.

"Be careful!"

"I will."

'Yeah, right.' Dean relaxed a bit, a little reassured. He let out a sigh of relief a few moments later when the noise in the nearby brush signaled his brother's return. "What took so long?"

Sam gave his older brother an exasperated look. "Crippled here, Dean. Working one-handed, sprained ankle. Any of that ring a bell with you?"

"Wanna trade?"

With a sympathetic wince, Sam shook his head and moved on with the business at hand. "I got a fairly large rock and a smaller one for you to place under the car to hold it, okay?"

"That's really great, but you'd better sit down for a minute. You look like shit."

Sam's shoulders slumped at the idea. He didn't have to be told twice. "Gee, thanks. Right back atcha. Give me a sec to get you some water first, then yeah, I'll sit." He limped over to the trunk of the car; there should be about half case of bottled water in the trunk. Making short work of the retrieval, he headed back to his brother and handed him the bottle.

After Sam awkwardly managed to get to the ground, Dean held the bottle out to his brother, who grabbed the top and twisted.

"How many Winchesters does it take to open a bottle of water on a mountainside, Sammy?" Dean grinned and took several long pulls from the bottle. He was grateful he could raise his head enough to help himself, despite the pain the movement caused. He was getting worried about Sam, though.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. He let his head fall back onto the car and sighed. "What're we going to do?"

Dean handed the half empty bottle of water to Sam so he could drink. "We're going to get me out from under my baby, and then we're going to get the hell out of here. I'm not thinking I like mountains anymore."

"Me neither." Sam let his brother have the last few sips of water and worked his way to a standing position again.

Moving the smaller rock so Dean could reach it, Sam placed the other one within easy reach. Sam then placed the end of the branch under the car but had to pull it out a bit as he realized he wouldn't be able to get under it to lift. Satisfied with the placement, he bent down slightly, got the branch on his right shoulder, and lifted. His legs ached with the strain, but he kept up the effort.

"Here we go!"

Dean watched his brother lift with all of his might and thought he could see the beginning of movement. He did. The pressure released a fraction from his chest sending hope flooding through him. Suddenly, the car came back down on him full force, setting loose a scream at the pain.

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Sam lost his grip on the stick and fell with it to the ground. He'd been excited at the movement he was noticing, but he couldn't maintain the upward pressure. His scream joined Dean's as he hit the ground and jarred his broken arm.

He lay there trying to breathe through the pain so he could get to Dean to see how badly that fall had hurt his brother. Sam managed to roll himself over so he could see the older man. "Dean? Dean! You okay?"

Dean panted as he tried to breathe through the pain. "Just peachy. It's hard to breathe, but I think I'll be okay. You?"

"Don't worry. I'm going to get this off of you right now, whether she wants to or not."

Sam got himself back up and set up for another try. This time, he kept his eyes on what was happening and a stronger grip on the branch. Centering his body on the end of the branch, he gave a mighty grunt and looked for all the world like a weightlifter trying to lift a car off of someone. The car began to move.

He could neither see nor hear as he focused on his task. He had to save Dean, plain and simple, and there was no way that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to let the car fall again. End of story. He felt the branch going slowly up and was strengthened by that feeling. He kept pushing. He gasped when something grabbed his ankle.

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Dean knew this had to work this time. It was harder to breathe and his ribs hurt a lot more than before. 'If they weren't broken before, I'm sure they are now!'

Hearing his brother's breaths coming in sharper, shorter gasps, Sam knew he didn't have as much time as he would have liked. He quickly got himself ready for another round then gave his brother an encouraging smile. "So ... how 'bout them Yankees?"

"They suck," Dean gasped, the effort to laugh sending shooting pains through his chest. "Damn it, Sam, don't make me laugh."

"Sorry. Okay, hold on." As he started to push again, he grit out as a warning, "This is karma for rooting against the Sox that day, you know."

"Work now, karma later," Dean encouraged, even though he was pretty sure his little brother couldn't hear him. Sam got like that when he concentrated hard enough.

Dean kept calling encouragement as the car began to lift and the blessed relief swept through him again. When the car was high enough, he pushed the rock under the roof and called to Sam to stop, but Sam didn't hear. He kept groaning and pushing; the car kept lifting. Dean was afraid he wouldn't be able to pull himself out, so he grabbed Sam's ankle to get his attention.

Sam gasped at the touch and looked down. "Thank God!" He let up on the pressure and lowered the car back down an inch until it rested on the rock. Both brothers held their breath for a moment to see if it would hold.

Dean acted first. "Sammy, give me your hand. I can't get out by myself. Hurry!"

"You sure you have enough room?" Sam panted.

Dean was starting to feel some pain in his left arm as the circulation began to return, but the pressure was still on his chest a little. He hated to do it, but he had to ask his brother to try it again to get him some more room.

"I think you're going to have to do it again. Hand me the other rock?"

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Sam nodded as he scooted the larger rock closer to Dean and then got back into position. He shoved the branch further under the car and lifted. His shoulder was sore from the pressure that had been being placed on it. He bit back a yelp as he put all of his effort into the task at hand.

This time, he heard Dean's yell when the bigger rock was in place and he could stop lifting.

Sam leaned over and tried to catch his breath, and then hobbled the step over to behind Dean's head and grabbed his right hand with his own right.

"Pull!" Dean yelled.

Sam didn't need to be told twice and pulled with all his might. He felt Dean move and Sam let up a little so he could move himself further away and pull again. In this fashion, he got Dean out from under the car and collapsed at his brother's side, not even feeling the pain that shot through his arm or his throbbing head.

They lay there for a while, each taking his own inventory and rejoicing in the amazing feat they had just accomplished.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean panted.

"Piece of cake," Sam panted in return. "How are you? Think your ribs are broken?"

"I-I don't know. I'm getting really c-cold, though. D'you think you could get a f-f-fire going?"

Sam nodded, realizing that shock was setting in and that he needed to get his brother warm ASAP. He hobbled back to the trunk and brought the blanket he'd seen earlier to lay across Dean.

"Warm that up for me, would you?" he grinned as he set off to work.

Dean nodded. Yeah, right. Like he was going to share...

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A nice-sized camp fire had both brothers feeling a little drowsy. The crisp, fall mountain air was no longer crisp — it was freezing. Sam had only managed to find the one blanket, but he was pretty sure there was another inside the car, along with their jackets. That would just have to wait until tomorrow. It was decided that they would share the single blanket and try to create more body heat for them both. Dean no longer seemed to be going into shock, leaving Sam able to relax a little.

Sam wouldn't allow his brother to check him over until the morning, stating it was more important to keep warm than to stitch or bind at this point. He was, however, concerned that Dean didn't seem to be using his left arm yet; the pain in Dean's neck was definitely a worry, too. He was pretty sure that Dean's ribs were bruised but not broken, so they could wait until morning for binding them. Dean was sitting to Sam's right so he wouldn't accidentally jostle Sam's broken arm in his sleep. Sam could sense Dean trying to work some feeling back into his arm, increasing his concern. Dean, of course, would not say anything about it.

"Sammy?"

"Mmmm?"

"You warm enough?"

"Snug as a bug." Sam shifted to make himself a little more comfortable.

"Did we find all the weapons?"

"We got as many as we could find before it got completely dark, Dean."

"That's really good, Sam."

Something in his brother's voice brought Sam to full alert, but he gave no external indication, except that his eyes locked on Dean's. A lifetime of hunting together had made verbal communication unnecessary, subtle body language and eye contact serving to pass along any information necessary.

Without moving, Sam turned his eyes as far as he could to the left and saw several pairs of eyes glowing just outside the circle of light cast by the flames…Wolves? Moving very carefully, the brothers wrapped their hands around the shotguns held in their respective laps. The fire was burning well, so no need to move any further for the moment.

In unspoken agreement, the Winchesters sat and watched the eyes that were watching them. A couple of the pairs of eyes moved restlessly back and forth at the edge of the fire light while others seemed content to just sit and watch. Occasionally, there sounded a low growl or a whimper, but none volunteered to come closer.

Suddenly, one of the wolves decided to be brave and take a few steps toward the young men at the fire. Neither brother moved, but the simultaneous sound of their shotguns being cocked caused the adventurous wolf to back up again.

The brothers waited, hardly daring to breathe knowing that one of the animals would eventually be brave enough to really come at them.

"Fire in the hole," Dean whispered.

Sam pressed against his brother in affirmation, telling him he'd be ready for whatever happened next.

Dean carefully brought his shotgun out from under the blanket and aimed it at the adventurous wolf with one hand, inwardly damning his useless left arm. He'd had to fire the weapon one-handed before and didn't doubt his ability this time. He took in a breath and held it as he squeezed the trigger.

The resulting boom and squeal of the mortally wounded animal reverberated through the forest. The rest of the pack, which had been watching the hunter curiously, immediately turned and ran. Other night animals reacted, too, flooding the forest with the sounds of scurrying and flapping wings as startled animals and birds tried to get away.

"I don't like the forest."

"Me neither."

"We need to get out of here tomorrow."

"Agreed."

"You go ahead and get some sleep. I'll wake you in a couple of hours." Dean broke open the shotgun and replaced the spent shell.

"You sure, Dean?" Sam looked at his brother skeptically.

"Seriously, dude. Sleep. I'll wake you."

Sam accepted that and settled down comfortably again…well, as comfortably as the situation allowed. The events of the day, the comforting warmth from the fire and his brother's presence had him falling asleep in no time at all.

TBC

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