"Uh, Sam, I think, I don't think I am gonna be able to walk back" Dean half mumbled, embarrassment creeping into his voice.
Sam bent down and looked at Dean's ankle a little closer.
Where a few minutes ago, it was the size of a golf ball, now it seemed to have multiplied, looking like someone had inflated a balloon and stuck it on Dean's ankle.
"Jesus Dean, what the hell did you do?" Sam asked in amazement as he took in the sight.
"I thought you just twisted it, just tripped. I didn't realize you messed it up this badly."
"Neither did I," Dean sighed, as the constant throbbing in his ankle started to get worse and worse.
"Well, I am going to have to at least help you walk, or carry you back to the Impala," Sam replied.
"The hunt..." Dean started, but was cut off by Sam.
"There is no way you are gonna be able to hunt on that ankle Dean, we need to get some ice on it as soon as we can."
Sam attempted to lift Dean up off the ground, his shoulder supporting most of Dean's weight.
Dean grunted, trying to put on a brave face, but in obvious pain, as he put his arm around Sam's shoulder and tried to limp along.
It was proving to be a trying task. a
Dean wasn't exactly a lightweight, and Sam, being taller than him, was having to crouch down at an awkward angle to support him.
"Almost there Dean," Sam said, as he took note of the pale, sweaty face of his brother.
"Thank God" Dean breathed, as the Impala finally came into view.