Dean woke to a warm, crackling fire, and the smell of what he suspected was beef stew.
Someone sat down on the bed next to him. He blinked and Sam came into focus, looking down at him with an impassive look on his face.
He laid a hand on Dean's forehead, checking for fever, then drew down the blanket and examined the bandage on his brother's side. Satisfied, he pulled the blanket back up. "Hungry?"
Not entirely sure he was awake, Dean blinked up at him. "Uh – yes?"
"Well, let's get some food into you."
"Sammy – ?"
"Quiet." Sam went to the fireplace and dished up a bowl of steaming stew from the pot. Then he sat back down on the bed and held a heaping spoonful to his brother's mouth
"Sammy, I can – "
Dark eyes unreadable, Sam shook his head and waited until Dean reluctantly opened his mouth
A few bites in, Sam said, "Got a question for you."
Dean looked at him warily.
"At what freaking point –" Sam stopped, jaw clenched. When he continued, his smile had bite.
"At what point did you decide it was a good idea to hunt a Wendigo pack without me?"
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