Okay, I promise this is the last one!
Sam had kept Dean warm and as comfortable as he could, and his arm was shaking from holding pressure on the wound. Now the paramedics took over and Dean was stabilised and in hospital – he'd be sorely pissed when he came to.
With his chest swathed in bandages and hooked up to an IV, Dean rested peacefully. Sam had stayed with him all night, not quite so peacefully. He just wanted Dean to wake up.
Dean woke up.
"Hey! How're you feeling?"
"N…"
"Not so good? Well that's understandable."
"N…"
"No?"
"Ah! Hot nurses?"
Dean vomited.
"Oh… guess you meant nauseous."
