Please read and enjoy my little ramble...as always, the boys belong to another...
-km
Dean Winchester was uncomfortable, this he knew. Beyond that, his brain was still trying to figure out. He opened his eyes, then immediately regretted it as painfully bright light assaulted them.
Deciding that a visual inspection wasn't so important at that moment, he closed his eyes and focused on the other senses at his disposal. Touch being close to his heart, he felt around and processed the feel of cold wet grass and muddy soil- outside, laying on the ground- great. Smell matches feel, he thought as he took in a deep breath, smelling the wet earth. He licked his lips and felt a sharp pain, tasted blood...hmmm this was getting interesting.
A groan near him reminded him of sound, or lack thereof until that moment- Sammy was near by. Suddenly his wandering mind focused, eyes snapping open in a mad search for his little brother. Tombstones surrounded him; they had been on a hunt Dean remembered- a nasty little guy, literally, that had been terrorizing the local side show. The brothers had tracked down the "world's smallest man" to his final resting spot, and were almost finished with the salt and burn when the diminutive ghost came to express his displeasure at being disturbed. A shout of warning was all that Dean had heard as he felt himself fly through the air.
Dean calls his brother's name as he stumbles to his feet, not liking the lack of response. A moment of dizziness makes him sway, a cold monument to someone's existence providing him with the support he needs to stay on his feet. Green eyes scan the immediate area, trying to remain calm as he searches for Sam. A long leg, barely visible behind another grave marker, not moving in the slightest, makes Dean's heart skip. He half walks, half runs to his sibling- the soldier in him trying to remain calm as the brother in him panics.
Kneeling down besides Sam he touches his cheek- gently taps to rouse the younger man. A demand to wake up, followed by a quiet please produces the desired result. A small moan, then eyelids flutter open to reveal slightly unfocused brown eyes. A sigh of relief as panicked brother now lets the soldier take over. Careful, efficient hands check for any obvious injury. No broken bones, no bleeding wounds-good. Big bruise starting to form under right eye, a large bump on the back of his head-not good, but hopefully not life threatening. Pushing unruly brown hair away, Dean inspects Sam's head for further injury. A hand in protest halts the inspection as a smile is produced, dimmed a little by pain, in an attempt to dismiss an older brother's concern. Next, a quick reassurance voiced- not really believed, but not necessarily a lie, gets the solider to stand down. Trust born from many triage experiences allows him to relax- Dean knows true injury would be mentioned. A breath is released- another hunt completed, emotions back in check, they can go on.