A/N: Hello again my dear readers and I am back with a short one for a loyal reader that leaves such amazing comments. We have become good friends and I hope she enjoys this weechester. As always, I love to read your comments/reviews, please leave one. NC

Disclaimer: I do not own SPN and this is my own creation. Any errors are my own.

Chapter 1

Darkness had fallen across the land as the young man paced from one room to the other in the small house located in the small town of Iowa Falls, Iowa. It was rundown and needed repairs and didn't have any air conditioning. There was a ceiling fan in the living room and a small fan in each bedroom to try and circulate the hot air of the summer. The furniture was second hand and threadbare but served its purpose. The beds were lumpy and the sheets rough, but they had stayed in worse over the years.

The Winchester brothers had been staying at the house for nearly a month so they could finish the school year before their father packed them up to go in search of another hunt. They had moved from town to town and hunt to hunt ever since Mary Winchester had been killed over nine years ago. Since that time, their Dad was seeking revenge for her death by tracking the supernatural monster who killed her.

The oldest brother, Dean, was fourteen and in high school and the younger brother, Sam, was ten and in fifth grade. Their father, John Winchester, had rented the house for a month and left them there to go chase another hunt. He had been gone for over two weeks and they had not heard from him.

Dean did his best to look after them when their father was gone, but this time, things were not going well. Their food was gone and so was what little money John had left them. It had been two days that the brothers had been without food and Dean had left Sam alone to try to hustle some money or steal some food for them. He would do whatever was necessary to make sure Sammy had food, even if he had to go without.

Sam looked at the clock on the wall to see Dean had been gone for several hours now and he was getting worried. He went to the window and looked out toward the street hoping to see his older brother coming down it toward the house, but all he saw was darkness and an occasional car driving slowly down the street. He fussed softly and clenched his hands into fists, trying to decide what he should do. Sam's stomach growled loudly wanting to be fed and he grabbed a glass and ran water to drink, hoping to appease the gnawing hunger.

The conversation with Dean before he left played out in Sam's head,

"I'm going out Sammy," Dean told his younger brother when he came back from the bedroom.

"Why and where are you going?" Sam questioned.

"Just out," said Dean being vague. "You stay in the house and lock the door. Don't answer it for anyone but me. You got it?"

"Why can't I come with you?" Sam whined.

"Because, you'll just get in the way," Dean huffed and frowned when he saw the hurt look on Sam's face before he looked down at the floor. "Look, I'm going to find us something to eat, okay?"

"But you don't have any money."

"I'll figure something out, don't worry. Now, do as I say and stay inside."

"I don't want you to go."

"It'll be okay Sammy," said Dean, his voice softening. "You need something to eat. I'm sure Dad will be back tomorrow, and we'll go out and have a huge meal, all you can eat of that rabbit food you like so much," he teased.

"Jerk!" Sam spat out, not really made at him but worried.

"Bitch," Dean chuckled opening the front door and pausing to look back at his little brother. Sam was so skinny and not having food regularly didn't help matters. Dean didn't care what he had to do, he was going to get some food for him.

"Hey," Sam called to him just before he stepped outside.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful Dean," Sam told him to get a cocky smile and salute from him.

"Careful's my middle name, Sammy."

Sam watched the door close and went to the window to watch Dean walk to the sidewalk and turn left to head toward downtown. He was scared for him and wished their father would come back. He hated John for leaving them like this with not enough money to buy food or anything else they needed. With a heavy sigh, Sam walked to the old, small television set and turned it on to one of the three stations they could pick up. He moved to the couch and plopped down on it and started watching the program trying to take his mind off his worry for his brother.

Something deep down inside of Sam was telling him that Dean was in trouble, and he needed his help. He shook his head to rid his mind of the memory, knowing it wouldn't do any good to replay in again. He paced from the kitchen to the living room several more times before deciding he had to do something. Dean had been looking out for him his entire life and Sam knew he needed lend a helping hand this time. He couldn't sit back and do nothing.

Sam went to the small bedroom he shared with Dean and dug around in his duffle for a flashlight and the switchblade Dean had given him. He pocketed the knife and clutched the light tightly in his hand as he built up his courage to go in search of his brother. He could do this, Sam kept telling himself.

After slipping the house key into his pocket, Sam went to the front door and let himself out, twisting the flimsy knob to lock the door behind him. He paused at the end of the walkway and looked both ways before trudging down the sidewalk the way Dean had gone. It was late and there were not any people out on the streets. He had a good idea which way Dean went and started trying to retrace his steps.

The night sounds around Sam had him glancing around trying to see what they were. He was jumpy and the streetlights didn't help much. They only made it look more ominous and scarier. He walked to the alley opening that they always used for a short cut to the business district and to school.

Sam stood at the alley opening and turned on his flashlight to shine it into the darkness, trying to see down the road that ran between the buildings. He could see dumpsters randomly spaced against the walls and wondered what could be behind them. He bit his lower lip as he fidgeted for a moment before slowly making his way into the alley. He stayed in the middle of the road and let his light sweep the way in front of him, tense and scared. He gripped the switchblade in his hand, ready to do battle if attacked.

When Sam was halfway down the alley, his light moved across something sticking out from behind one of the dumpsters. He was cautious, as he moved closer, letting his light sweep the area for signs of anyone that might pose a threat to him.

"Dean?" Sam gasped before dropping down beside his brother's still body. "Dean," he cried again seeing blood on his face. He put two fingers to his neck to check for a pulse, like Dean had showed him, and sighed with relief when he felt one under them. "Dean wake up," Sam called to him as he gently shook his shoulder but didn't get any response. His brother was unconscious and bleeding badly from a head wound. Sam tried not to panic since he had learned head wounds bleed a lot but were usually not that serious. At least he hoped that was the case with Dean.

Sam pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and tied it around Dean's head to try and control the bleeding. He felt down his arms and legs but didn't feel anything broken. Sam moved the light slowly over Dean's body looking for more blood or any other injuries and let the breath he was holding out when he didn't see any. He looked around for something to help him get Dean back to the house. Sam knew he couldn't carry him, he wasn't strong enough and there was no one to call to help. He couldn't call the cops or rescue squad for fear CPS (Child Protective Services) would step in and take them away from their father.

Sam got up and started looking around the dumpsters and in them until he found a long piece of heavy duty cardboard that would serve the purpose. He shook it to dislodge any dirt before laying it down beside Dean's body. He pulled his legs onto the cardboard and then moved upward to shift the rest of his body onto it. Sam was careful as he grabbed the end at Dean's head and grunted as he lifted the cardboard and began to pull Dean back down the alley.

It was slow going since Sam had to be careful that Dean didn't roll off the cardboard stretcher. He paused at the end of the alley to look both ways, making sure there was no one to see them. He knew if they were seen, cops would be called, and they would be taken away and probably separated.

After getting a better grip on the edge of the cardboard, Sam pulled Dean down the sidewalk. He had only gone a short distance before his arms started hurting and a dull ache settled in the small of his back and between his shoulders. He dug deep, pushing the pain aside and continued to make his way back to their house.

When Sam heard a car engine coming down the street, he quickly pulled Dean into a doorway and hid until it had passed. Once it was out of sight, he readjusted Dean's body on the cardboard and continued his trek. Sam looked up to see how much farther he had to go and could see the house now and picked up his pace. Sweat was running down his face and dripping into his eyes making his vision blurry and burning them. He stopped for a moment to wipe his face on his T-shirt before shifting his grip to finish the journey.

Sam stopped on the walkway at the steps so he could go unlock the door first to get Dean inside. He turned on the lamp in the living room and the light in the kitchen before going out to get Dean. Very carefully, Sam tried to work the cardboard up the three steps, but Dean kept sliding off. He finally sat on the bottom step and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and hugged him to his chest. He scooted up a step on his bottom, taking Dean with him, and paused for a moment to catch his breath. He did this twice more, getting Dean on the small porch and then on into the house.

Once he had Dean's limp body in the living room, Sam ran to the bathroom to get wet cloth, towel, and first aid kit to doctor Dean's injuries. He took off the bandanna and carefully wiped the blood from the side of his head and around his hairline trying to see the injury. After uncovering a deep gash that was still leaking blood, Sam sat back for a moment trying to decide what to do.

"Dean, hey," Sam called to him patting his cheeks to try and rouse him. "You need to wake up, please," he begged fighting the panic that was building inside of him.

When he didn't get a response, Sam went back to the bathroom to rinse the washcloth and wash his hands good. He didn't have a choice but to try and stitch the gash himself. He had watched Dean stitch up their father on numerous occasions and their Uncle Bobby had taught him to sew on buttons and mend tears in clothes. Though Bobby wasn't really related to them, the boys thought of him as family. Sam sometimes wished he could stay with Bobby and not be dragged all over the country by their father.

Bobby Singer was a hunter just like their father, John, and had even trained John when he started out hunting. He was the go-to guy for research on anything supernatural and a lot of the hunting community depended on him for that. He owned a salvage yard in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and the boys had stayed with him off and on throughout their lives. If John was near and he was home, he'd leave the boys with Bobby to hunt. That was the only times that the brothers got to be kids. Bobby tried to give them some sense of normal in their lives and treated them like they were his own. He tried to talk some sense into John about not taking the boys with him on hunts, but it never helped. John was blinded by his obsession to listen.

Sam realized his mind had wandered, thinking of someone safe, hoping to calm himself and take his mind off the scary situation in front of him. But now he had to let those thoughts go and return his focus to taking care of Dean. He dug through the first aid kit until he found a suture kit and laid it on the floor by Dean's head. He wiped the gash again with the wet cloth before taking the alcohol and pouring some on it to clean the wound. Dean groaned and jerked, turning his head away but never regained consciousness.

"This is going to hurt Dean, but I've got to stop the bleeding." Sam opened the kit and pulled the suture out. He took a deep breath and pinched Dean's skin together so he could push the needle through his skin catching both sides and pulling it through. He knotted it and cut the thread before repeating the process six times, closing the wound. His fingers became slick with blood, and he had to wipe them several times to keep a grip on the needle and continue his handiwork.

Sam carefully wiped the stitched area with alcohol again and sat back on his heels examining his handiwork and checking to be sure the bleeding had stopped. Once he saw it had, Sam put antibiotic cream on it and taped a gauze pad down to keep it clean. "Man, Dean, what happened to you?" Sam whispered as he turned Dean's head to see that a large bruise was forming on the side of his face and his lip was split and swollen. He looked down at Dean's hands and saw his knuckles were scraped and had smears of blood and dirt on them. He lifted his shirt and saw scraped skin and minor scratches but nothing that looked serious.

"I'll get you a pillow," Sam decided getting up and heading to their bedroom but stepped into the bathroom first to wash the blood from his hands. He scrubbed hard on his skin wanting to rid it of Dean's blood that was a reminder of what he had to do. He came back with Dean's pillow and carefully lifted his head to place it under it. "There, that's better." Sam stood and looked down at his brother's battered body, trying to decide what to do. He needed help and there was only one person he knew to call.

With a plan in place, Sam checked Dean one more time to be sure he was breathing okay and seemed comfortable before hurrying to the door and going outside. They didn't have a phone and the nearest pay phone was a couple blocks away at a gas station. Sam ran down the sidewalk and tried to stay in the shadows so no one would see him and try to stop him. He was out of breath by the time he saw the lights of the gas station up ahead went straight to the phone booth.

Sam dialed the operator to make a collect phone call and waited for an answer. Finally, on the fifth ring a grumpy, deep voice answered.

"This better be a damn life or death situation to be calling at this hour," Bobby growled into the phone.

"Will you accept a collect call from…" there was a pause and then Sam's voice filled in. "Sam Winchester."

"Yes, sure," Bobby replied going on full alert knowing something bad was going on for Sam to be calling him this late at night.

"Go ahead sir," the operator told Sam before she hung up.

"Bobby…" Sam croaked as his voice cracked and a sob escaped before he could stop it.

"Sam, son, what's going on?" Bobby questioned as he listened to the young boy's sobs. "Easy now, take a deep breath and tell me what's going on; where's your Dad and brother?"

Sam's breath hitched and he wiped his face trying to speak as his throat tightened up.

"Dad's hunting," he finally got out. "Dean's hurt and won't wake up," he cried.

"Hurt? Sam, where are you?"

"Iowa Fall, Iowa. Dad rented a small house for us. The address is 364 Riverside Road."

"How bad is Dean hurt?"

"I'm not sure. He's got a nasty gash on the side of his head that I stitched up like you taught me to sew, to stop the bleeding. Bobby, there was so much blood…"

"I know son, head wounds are a bugger with bleeding. I'll head out as soon as I'm dressed and come and get you boys."

"Uncle Bobby," Sam whispered.

"What Sam?"

"Could you…Maybe…Could you bring something us to eat?" he asked in a weak voice.

Bobby froze and swore under his breath, cussing John Winchester for abandoning his boys like this. He was going to have a few choice words with him, and he would be lucky if he didn't fill his ass with buckshot.

"Sure Sam, I can do that. You get back to Dean and stay put. I'll be there by dawn."

"Okay, thanks Uncle Bobby. Bye, I'll take care of Dean as best I can."

Bobby hung up his phone and stood there a minute to let his anger dissipate before heading back to his bedroom to get dressed and get on the road to Iowa Falls. He stopped in the kitchen to grab a couple cans of soup, crackers, bag of cookies, and several bottles of water. After glancing in the cabinets and fridge, Bobby knew he would need to make a supply run when he got the boys home with him. It was okay for him to live off whatever canned food he had but them boys needed healthy food.

spn

Sam let himself back into the house and locked the door behind him before hurrying to Dean dropping to the floor beside him. He felt lightheaded from the running and was spent. He patted Dean's cheeks again to try and revive him.

"Dean, come on man, you're scaring me," Sam begged trying to wake him. He quickly stood up and the room tilted sideways, making him stumble back onto the couch. He lay there a minute letting the dizzy spell pass before going to the bathroom for a clean washcloth, that he wet with cold water. "You're not going to like it, but I called Uncle Bobby to come and get us," said Sam as he carried on a one-way conversation with his brother. He wiped the dirt and dried blood from his face in hopes the cold cloth would revive him. "I didn't know what else to do. We have no idea when Dad's coming back, and we'll starve if we don't get something to eat soon." Sam couldn't stop the tears that filled his eyes and leaked down his face. He picked up his brother's limp hand and held it to his chest as he prayed Dean would wake and that Uncle Bobby would get there soon.

It wasn't long before Sam's mind started shutting down and he began to nod. He slumped back against the couch still holding onto Dean's hand and drifted to sleep. His sleep was uneasy as his dreams were filled with finding Dean in the alley, but he was too late, and Dean was dead. He moaned in his sleep and twisted around, letting his body slide to the floor beside his brother. Sam snuggled into Dean's side and used the edge of his pillow for his head.

Consciousness came slowly to Dean, and he grimaced with the pounding in his head as he raised his right hand to feel something taped to the side of it. He could tell he wasn't in his bed and squinted his eyes trying to clear his vision. He tried to move his other hand, but something had it trapped down at his side. Painfully, Dean rolled his head to see the top of his brother's head resting against his shoulder.

"S'my," Dean tried get out, but it was like his throat was raw and so dry he couldn't swallow. He shifted his position slightly and groaned with the movement.

"D…" Sam slurred as he pushed up from the floor to look at him. "Thank goodness you finally woke up," he sighed wiping his face so he could see better. "How do you feel?"

"Water…" Dean choked out as he tried to work up enough salvia to wet his mouth.

"Okay, just stay here," Sam told him getting up to fast and catching himself on the couch before he fell. He paused long enough to let the dizziness pass before walking quickly to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He looked around on the counter until he found a straw and went back to his brother's side, kneeling by him.

"Let me help you," Sam insisted as he put an arm under Dean's shoulders to help him sit up enough to drink some water. He held the glass and let Dean capture the straw between his lips so he could suck the water into his mouth. Sam watched him carefully and pulled the glass away when Dean coughed lightly. "Not too fast, you'll choke."

"Okay, a little more," Dean requested reaching for the glass.

"Alright but take it slow." Sam brought the straw back to Dean's mouth and let him drink some more. He sat it aside once he was done and let Dean's head rest back down on the pillow.

"How'd I get back here?" Dean questioned because the last thing he remembered was being beaten up and left in the alley.

"I went looking for you when you didn't come back," Sam started. "I found you in the alley we use as a shortcut…." Sam stopped talking when a knocking got their attention and Sam got up to answer it.

"Don't answer that," Dean hissed trying to grab Sam but missed his battered body protesting his movements.

"It's okay, it's Uncle Bobby," Sam assured him as he went to the door. He did peek out the window to be sure, before opening the door to let Bobby in. "Uncle Bobby," Sam greeted him, throwing his arms around his waist, and hugging him tightly.

"Sam, son, I go here as quickly as I could," Bobby spoke warmly to him, as he hugged him one handed. "Now where's your brother?"

"He just came to, he's in here," Sam replied, leading Bobby into the living room.

"Here, why don't you go fix some soup for the two of you," Bobby said handing him the bag he was carrying.

"Okay," Sam nodded taking the bag to the kitchen to heat some soup.

"Hello son," Bobby spoke to Dean as moved closer to him. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted him, letting his gaze drop with the question.

"Let me see how bad it is." Bobby knelt by him and gently pulled the tape loose to check the wound and Sam's stitches. He pressed the tape back in place and looked Dean over with a critical eye. He was pale and his face still had streaks of dried blood and dirt on it. The bruise on the side of his face stood out against his pallor. "Your brother did a good job stitching you up. Why didn't you call me if you needed money?"

"I was trying to take care of it myself," Dean mumbled. He turned sideways and pushed himself to a sitting position only to have the room start spinning.

"Easy boy, you've probably got a concussion," Bobby insisted as he grabbed Dean's shoulder to support him. He helped to stand long enough to sit on the couch and noticed the thin sheen of sweat that broke out on his forehead. "How are you coming with that soup Sam?"

"Almost ready," Sam replied as he got out bowls to serve the soup in. His mouth was watering as he drew in the aroma and his stomach growled loudly in protest. He took one bowl to the living room for Dean and handed it to Bobby. "I'll be back." He went back to the kitchen and got his bowl and the crackers before joining them in the living room.

"That's good stitching Sam; I couldn't have done any better," Bobby praised the boy.

"Thanks," Sam mumbled shyly. He sat in the floor and put his soup in front of him so he could open the crackers to take some before handing the sleeve to Dean. Once he had them crumbled in his soup, he took a bite and sighed as the flavors exploded on his tastebuds. He quickly began to devour the soup and suddenly burped loudly when he was done.

"Excuse me," he said as his face reddened and he looked down at the floor.

"Maybe that'll hold you for a bit," Bobby told him. "Why don't you go pack yours and Dean's things, you're coming home with me."

"We can't," Dean butted in. "Dad may be back any day."

"When was he supposed to be back?"

"Six days ago," Sam answered before Dean could, giving him a bitch face when he frowned crossly at him.

"And how long since you've had anything to eat?"

"Three days," Sam whispered picking up a cracker and taking a bite.

"Go on Sam, do as I say and go pack and Dean, we'll leave a note for John that I came and got you," Bobby told them.

"Alright," Sam nodded getting up and taking their bowls to the kitchen to wash out before going to their bedroom to pack their meager belongings.

"I don't wanna hear any complaining from you Dean. I know you're doing your best for Sam, but you need to let me help. I'm not going to let you stay here alone and starve. Your Daddy should have known better. Are you with me on this?"

Dean pinched his lips together and pouted but it only made his head hurt worse. He knew Bobby was right but didn't want to admit he needed help. He was the big brother and was supposed to be able to take care of Sammy.

"Okay," Dean finally said. "We'll go back with you."

"Good," Bobby replied. "You're doing the right thing here Dean. It's for the best and I think you know it. You are taking care of Sam this way and taking care of yourself too."

Sam came from the bedroom carrying two duffels and his backpack looking between the two on the couch. He was sure something had been discussed or worked out between them.

"I'm ready," Sam spoke up breaking the silence.

"Okay, go grab whatever food is left and we'll take it back with us," Bobby told Sam.

"Bathroom first," Dean noted as he tried to stand on his own.

"Let me help," Sam insisted dropping their duffels and rushing to Dean's side. He looped an arm around his waist and walked slowly with him to the bathroom. Dean stopped at the doorway and stopped Sam from coming in too.

"I got it from here dude," Dean told him. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

"I'll just wait here for you," Sam said leaning against the wall. He didn't care how much Dean fussed, he was going to look after him. He tilted his head to listen to Dean moving around in the bathroom and listened to the water come on and run for a bit before being shut off. He pushed from the wall and waited patiently for Dean to come back out.

"Dude! Personal space," Dean complained when he opened the door and almost stepped into Sam.

"I don't want you to get lightheaded and falling," Sam told him, moving so he could put Dean's arm around his shoulders.

"I can make it on my own," Dean insisted, but finally gave in when Sam turned on his puppy dog eyes expression making Dean roll his eyes and huff in defeat. "Fine." He let Sam lead him back to the living room where Bobby was waiting on them.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," Bobby told them. He picked up the duffels and food bag before opening the door.

"Wait, I need to leave a note for Dad," Dean said. "Sammy, you got a pen and paper?"

"Yeah, hold on," Sam replied letting Dean go and opening his backpack. He pulled out the items Dean wanted and handed them to him.

"Thanks," Dean nodded and wobbled to the kitchen table to sit while he wrote the note. He put a saltshaker on it to hold it down before joining the others at the door. Sam took his place at Dean's side, and they followed Bobby outside to his car.

"Why don't you get in back where you can stretch out?" Sam suggested as he opened the passenger door and flipped the seat forward for him.

"Okay, guess it wouldn't hurt," Dean said. He carefully bent over and grunted in pain as he slipped into the back of the car and settled. His breathing was fast and shallow, and his vision blurred for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked looking in back at him.

"Why don't you take some pain meds?" Bobby suggested as he put their bags in the trunk. "Sam, can you get some out for him?"

"Yes," said Sam opening Dean's duffel and finding some Tylenol. He handed the bottle back to Dean as Bobby handed him a bottle of water.

"Thanks," Dean told them. He opened the bottles and took some pills, sipping on the water before slumping down in the seat as Bobby started the car and pulled out onto the road. He headed for the main highway, going northwest toward Sioux Falls. "We'll stop in a couple of hours and get something to eat. Should let that soup settle before eating again."

"That'll be good," Sam replied knowing he was still hungry but didn't want to make himself sick by eating too much at one time, plus he was embarrassed to tell Bobby. He gazed aimlessly out the side window at the passing scenery feeling a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Sam knew Uncle Bobby would take care of them until their Dad showed up. Maybe, just maybe, they could spend the summer with Uncle Bobby and not be dragged across the country from one cheap, rundown motel to another chasing the hunts.

"Sam, why did your Daddy leave you at that house this long?" Bobby questioned wanting to understand John's logic for doing it.

"It was so we could finish out the school year in one place," Sam answered. "We got out of school last week. Dad was supposed to be back by then."

"I see," Bobby pondered the answer. At least John still had some sense, he thought.

"Uncle Bobby," Sam started looking down at his clasped hands as he tried to ask his question. "Do you think Dad's okay? That he's still alive?" His voice dropped at the end as he looked over at Bobby with pleading eyes.

Bobby didn't answer right away, not wanting to scare the boy, but not wanting to lie to him either.

"Your Daddy's a smart hunter," Bobby replied. "I'm sure whatever hunt he's on is just taking longer than he expected. I think if something happened to him, the hunter grapevine would have passed the information along. Don't worry yourself Sam. He'll show up when the hunt is done."

"Okay," Sam nodded accepting Bobby's answer. He looked behind him and saw Dean had laid down in the backseat and seemed to be asleep. He still looked pale from the loss of blood.

They had been on the road for a little over an hour when Sam suddenly had a sharp pain in his abdomen and his gut rumbled. He grunted softly and rubbed his stomach.

"Uncle Bobby, can we stop?" Sam asked a pained expression on his face. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Sure, I'll take the next exit," Bobby replied glancing over at Sam and seeing his pinched expression. He quickly moved the car over two lanes and signaled to take the next exit. He turned right and pulled into a convenience store parking lot and parked near the front doors.

As soon as the car stopped, Sam jumped out and hurried inside to find the restrooms. He was lucky there was no one using it and locked the door behind him. After he was done and washed his hands, Sam headed back out feeling much better and got into the car.

"Okay, we can go now," Sam told Bobby as he settled into the passenger seat with a sigh.

"Alright," Bobby nodded with a small smile. He backed out and headed toward the highway to continue their journey. He checked Dean and thought he seemed more comfortable since he got a blanket out of the back for him to use as a pillow. He woke him enough to check that he was okay before letting him rest again.