Sam wasn't expecting the punch, but it didn't surprise him. He'd been awake for some of being possessed, more than he wanted to be. He knew what he'd done, who he'd killed. Who he'd tried to kill. If Dean wanted to knock him bloody – well, he deserved it after all, didn't he?

After a minute or so of letting his mind clear, and seeing that Dean was getting ready to attempt the push to his feet, Sam pushed to his own feet first and offered a hand down. He wondered if Dean would even accept help from him.

He did though, no hesitation. Dean took Sam's hand and his help and soon they both stood like a couple of swaying boxers, determined to stay on their feet. Bobby was there then too.

"C'mon, the both of you. Couch. Now. I don't want to have to pick you up off the floor if you go down again."

Sam couldn't help but notice that he and Dean had the same kind of staggering shuffle as they made their trek across the room, to the far side of the desk and Bobby's couch. Sam was tired; he knew Dean was hurt. He knew he had hurt Dean.

He helped Dean sit down first, taking his arm and a lot of his weight, and making sure he didn't just drop onto the cushions. Sam sat down then, away from Dean. Dean didn't need him anywhere that close. Probably didn't want him that close.

When Sam turned his attention to the burns on his arm, he felt Dean shift on the couch cushions beside him, felt their arms press together and Sam shifted himself a little farther away. He wanted Dean to be comfortable. He wanted Dean to have enough space away from him. Dean shifted again, and their arms were touching again. Sam thought he must not be giving Dean enough space. He decided to get up from the couch and move somewhere else.

"Here you go." Bobby said, coming back from the kitchen. He handed Dean a genuine old fashioned ice pack, the kind that looked like Jiffy Pop that was only halfway popped. Sam he gave a blue freezes-by-itself icepack. He pressed it against his arm and after a moment of not really having to think about it, stood up from the couch and went to sit at Bobby's desk.

Dean didn't need to be anywhere near him right now.

But Dean got up and followed him, pulling a chair over to sit next to him at the desk as he held the Jiffy Pop ice pack to his raw cheek.

"Room's where you left it." Bobby said. "I'll get some grub started too. Can't imagine when either of the two of you ate last."

"Thanks Bobby, but we're good." Dean said. "Hate to leave you with this mess, but we gotta get on the road."

"Hang on a minute then, there's something you boys need to take with you." Bobby said and headed out of the room.

Sam kept his eyes on his burns and his ice pack, but he could feel Dean next to him. Feel the energy, the nearness, the wall of Dean that followed him – literally – wherever he went.

"You okay?" Dean asked, and even his voice was part of that wall.

"Yeah. You?"

"Me? I'm awesome."

Sam looked up at him and could finally manage a small smile.

"Yeah I'm sure you are…by the way, you look like crap."

"Right back at you."

Sam chuffed out a laugh and moved his chair a little closer to Dean's.

The end.