Huddled under three blankets, Sam was still cold. But that wasn't what was keeping him awake. The memory of Dean running alone into the vamp nest was taking care of that.
How many times had he watched his brother die over the years?
Four? Five?
And what about the Mystery Spot? Did that count as just one, or – no, not going there.
Interrupting his hellish trip down memory lane, the bedroom door opened, and Dean stuck his head in. Sam turned away, onto his side, pressing his face into the pillow to hide the evidence of his last crying jag.