A/N One more chapter I figure - because if everyone isn't peeved at me after this one, I might be able to draw you all in for one more. Two might be pushing my luck.

A/N 2 Minor update, teeny thing. Yes, already.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, we would not be subjected to the misery that is this season. While I realize we can never have season 1 or 2 back, if this is going to be the last season you bastiches could at least let us have the BROTHERS back - let them at least TRY to rebuild their relationship.

I swam most of the way to consciousness once, I had no idea how much time had passed. My guess was that it had not been long since I could still wake up. I listened, still no Sam. My estimation of how much time had passed seemed to be reinforced by the fact that Dean was still sleeping snugged tight to me. Or I guess, more accurately, with me snugged to him like an oversized teddy bear. He snored softly and after so many nights sleeping in the same room I knew that meant he was thoroughly exhausted. Either the pain had not returned yet, or it had not yet gotten severe enough to wake him.

Or maybe Sam had found the bastard.

Taking a few deep breaths I gathered up what strength I had left. I had enjoyed traveling and hunting with these men, but I was under no delusions. After what had happened, how could things not be odd now? I hated the thought of moving on, but the thought of straining my friendship with the brothers was enough incentive. If I survived the next couple of days, I would have to go my own way as soon as I was able. I did not figure he would appreciate waking up with me in his arms any more than he would waking that way with his brother.

To me, what we had done was done in order to save his life, but I was well aware of the fact that there are so many who would not see it that way. He had been compliant at the time, but I was not positive he would not find himself a case of buyer's remorse.

My left hand was still on his stomach with his hand on top. I tried to gently pry my hand away from his flat belly. The second I started to slide my hand his closed around mine like a vice. His arm tensed around my back and he fidgeted slightly before drifting off again without fully waking. Okay, I could work with that. If I could get up and make my way to the floor between the beds, he could keep the damn wrist.

My other arm was flat on the bed running along next to my body. I started to slowly bend my arm, if I could get up onto my elbow I could maybe get slid back some and move around him onto the floor.

At least that was the plan.

As I tried to lift my body in order to bring my arm under me, his hand moved from my hip to my shoulder.

It was like molten lava against my skin. I wanted to cry out with the pain of overwrought nerve endings brought to wretched life, but whatever energy I had left was fast waning. Hell, I had not even had the strength yet to open my damn eyes. Maybe the plan to move had been a bit overly ambitious.

He rubbed his big warm hand gently along my upper arm. "God, you're freezing," he murmured, pulling me closer. His hand left my arm, I felt his palm on my forehead and he shivered beside me. He wrapped both arms around me for a second, giving me a squeeze as he slid one hand up under the hem of my shirt. His hand was like fire on my low back. I could hear the alarm in his tone when he whispered, "Damn, you're an ice cube. Don't move," as he slid his arm out from underneath me and moved off the bed.

I wanted to say something, but I just could not piece together what I needed to do to make it happen. The thought occurred to me that I should be frightened by all of this, but I just could not muster it up. Figuring the sleeping situation was taken care of at least, I let myself start to slide back down the dark tunnel underneath me.

Less than a second later, though, he was back - a little shaky and still half asleep. Poor guy had been through the ringer, the last thing he needed was to be taking care of my uncooperative carcass. I felt heavy blankets settle over me, and then he was back on the bed behind me. As he slid his long body under the covers along my back I tried to tell him he didn't have to, but what came out (to my horror) was just a quiet whimper.

" 'S'ok, you're okay, you need to rest," he soothed as he carefully pulled me tight against his chest, sharing body heat. Once again his big hand started rubbing my chilled skin. I wanted to reach out and slap him, chastise him for being concerned about me when he was the one who nearly died.

I was starting to feel warm, though. Warm and safe - and beyond exhausted. The darkness had me before I could draw another breath. As the real world zippered closed behind me, I thought I heard a door close.