Dean stood at the edge of the clearing, looking exhausted and pissed off. "You shoot me, Sammy, you're never gettin' laid again."
Stowing his gun away, Sam crossed quickly to his brother. "What the hell are you doing out here?"
"I should be asking you that," Dean said grimly.
They stared at each other for a long fraught moment, and then Sam sighed. Putting an arm around Dean's shoulder, he turned him around and the two started back down the trail toward the Impala.
After a few silent minutes, Sam said quietly, "Sorry, Dean."
Dean leaned into him. "Dumb ass."