Sam frowned with growing concern as Dean paced around the waiting room. He hadn't seen Dean this worried in a long time and it was disturbing.
"They were minor injuries, she'll be fine."
"Yeah, but she's so little! What if it's worse than we thought? What if I killed her?" Before Sam could answer, the doctor appeared holding a tightly wrapped bundle.
"She's fine," he said, handing the Pomeranian puppy they had hit to Dean, who cradled it against his shoulder, crooning and grinning stupidly. Sam's frown deepened and he sighed, shaking his head.
"What?"
"Sometimes I worry about you."