Sam felt his eyes drooping, too heavy-lidded for him to do anything about it at the moment, but he had to stay awake. They were both stable for the most part now, and Sam was a lot less concerned now that Dean's stitches were in. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that if he fell asleep, his brother wouldn't be okay when he woke up. He knew, rationally, that it didn't make sense. That Dean was patched up, that there wasn't any internal or external bleeding, and that he'd be golden in a week, tops. But it had been a close call. That's how it was with werewolves a lot of the time. Sons of bitches were fast and they were mean and if they didn't want to be caught, it was damn near impossible to catch 'em sometimes.

Interrupting Sam's train of thought, Dean finally spoke. "You should get some sleep, Sammy. We gotta drive all the way back to Sioux Falls tomorrow. Gonna be a long day."

Sam sighed, leaning his head on Dean's shoulder from where he was sitting behind him. "Are you gonna go to bed, too?"

Dean turned his head and very chastely kissed Sam's cheek. "Yeah. C'mon."

Sam practically scooted all the way up the bed backward, Dean chuckling at him the whole way, and pulled the blankets down once he got to the top.

Dean stood and lifted the blankets over his brother, then turned around and began walking away.

Sam's eyes flitted to the empty second bed in the room. "Are you… You're not…"

"Relax, Sasquatch," Dean teased. "Just gettin' some pain meds. I'll be back."

Sam sighed in relief and, moments later, saw his brother pull a bottle out of one of their bags along with a flask.

"Need some?" Dean asked, popping about four of the pills into his mouth and washing them down with what Sam assumed was whiskey.

Sam shook his head. "I'm good."

Dean nodded, returning the items in his hands to the duffel and then making his way back to his brother.

After Dean flipped off the lights and crawled into bed, Sam's eyes, still fighting sleep, didn't close.

Dean must have felt Sam blinking against his chest. "You gonna make me sew 'em shut?"

Sam forced his eyes closed, pretending, for his brother's sake, to allow unconsciousness to take over.

But, of course, Dean knew. Dean always knew. "Hey," he said after a few minutes, hooking his finger under Sam's chin. "You really do need to get some rest. Today was rough."

Sam nodded, refusing to meet his brother's eyes. "Yeah. I know."

They lay still and silent for a while before, finally, Dean said, "Baby boy?"

Sam did look up at him, then, startled by the use of the nickname generally reserved for only sexual, overly-emotional, or extremely dire situations. "Yeah?"

Dean pressed a long, gentle kiss to Sam's head and rubbed their noses together when he pulled away, kissing Sam's mouth once, too. "I'll still be right here."

Sam wondered sometimes if Dean could read his mind.