Final chapter, a bit of Sam's POV. Since Dean's a little out of it. Maybe a lot.
Sam lowered his unconscious brother gently. His shirt made a rough sling for Dean's swollen arm, his jacket a pillow.
"Wait for me this time." He watched Dean's face carefully for a reaction. "I've gotta burn the corpse and I don't want you moving. Got it?"
Sam leaned back, stopped. Dean had a death grip on a twist of Sam's teeshirt. Laughing, Sam disentangled the fabric. "You pervert. You can't have that, too."
Dean's now empty hand fisted, lip quirking down. "Sa…?"
"Hey."
"Wha?"
"You were taking a nap."
"Seepin'?"
"Yeah. Seep for now."
Dean sighed and relaxed. "Kay. Thanks."
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