Bobby studied the paper Dean handed him, his brow furrowed. He recognized some of the symbols but had never seen this particular construction of them before. After adding them to his book, he would pick Dean's brain about what each meant in this particular sequence. Shuffling through a few piles of different jars and bags, he found the target of his search and pulled out the raven feather. He sharpened its shaft with his pocket knife and after studying the runes one more time, committing them to memory, he pulled the bowl of Dean's blood close. After a moment of hesitation, he set them aside and instead began building the hex bag, murmuring the necessary spells to strengthen and combine the spell components as he put each component in the bag in the proper order.

Meanwhile Sam dug through the bags and pulled out the bag of donuts, the juice, a couple apples, some cheese, and some napkins. He felt Dean's eyes watching his every move. Was Dean afraid he was going to disappear? Or was he thinking about what the two of them could be doing after they got themselves some sleep? Admittedly, amazingly, Sam was too tired to even think about jumping his brother's bones. Okay, maybe not. His mind was more than willing. His body had other ideas and insisted Sam consider sleep before sex for a change. And sleep did sound really good. He eyed the air mattress already blown up, just waiting for an occupant.

Reassuring himself that unless something came knocking on the door in the next ten minutes, he and Dean ought to be able to catch a nap at the least. Maybe some real sleep if given an hour or two. Focusing back on his task at hand, he emptied one of the bags of the rest of its contents, and then refilled it with the items he had set out. Pouring the coffee, he carried everything back to the table. Well, Bobby didn't look upset or annoyed and Dean hadn't tried to strangle or kill Bobby. All things considered, things were going better than he expected.

His brother continued to watch him and he smiled at Dean. In a few hours or a few minutes, life was going to suck. He would take what he could get right now. He set the three coffees down on the table and then carefully set the bag of food down, trying not to disrupt Bobby's spellwork. Normally Bobby just assembled the bags. That he was casting additional spells on them surprised Sam. As soon as Bobby finished he looked up at Sam.

"Thanks for the coffee. Now you put some of your blood in with your brother's," Bobby said nudging the bloody bowl towards Sam.

Sam stretched his hand open, wincing, reopening the wound, then squeezed his fist over it, mixing his blood with his brother's. Bobby took the bowl and stirred the blood together.

"Sam, the bandages are over there." He gestured to a pile near the wall. "If we have demons headed our way, you might want to just wash the wounds and loosely bind them. I'm not sure what all that blood of yours can do, but you might need access to the blood and it shouldn't be contaminated with ointment. When this first round is over, we'll bandage you boys up properly."

"Probably a good call," Sam said and retrieved the bandages and a bottle of water. He sat down in a chair beside Dean. Dean's eyes hardly left him and he almost blushed at the attention.

"Give me your hand," Sam said, a sudden shyness coming into his voice. It wasn't like Dean was leering, it was more like…admiration? Possession? Sam wasn't really sure. It didn't make him uncomfortable, not in the least, but just the way Dean looked at him made him well, feel a little self conscious but in a good way. A way that sort of made his heart flutter in his chest.

Bobby picked up the raven's feather and after mixing the brothers' blood together, inscribed the runes onto the hex bag. He hadn't more than finished the inscription when he jerked back from the bag.

"Sonuvabitch!" Bobby said, staring at the leather pouch.

The bloody runes glowed red, then turned gold, shining brightly. Tendrils of gold and black intertwined and wrapped around the bag, blanketing every inch of it. The tendrils sank into the leather and an odd sort of faint spiral of gold and black was left etched on its surface.

The older hunter eyed Dean. "Now I'm not no expert on the Abyssal Tongue and its writings, but that ward ain't suppose to do that, is it?

Dean listened with half an ear to the hunter’s soft muttering of spells over the hex bag while his eyes continued to follow his brother’s movements. Silently contemplating what their next course of action might be against their approaching attacker.

Though he hated to admit it, it was obvious that Bobby knew what he was doing. The spells combined with the ingredients in the hex bags would offer them powerful protection against being detected by any demonic forces in the area. The older man might just be useful after all, for now at least. As more than just cannon fodder.

Dean’s opinion of the priest, however, had not changed much. Well, maybe it had worsened, if that was even possible. After the older man’s refusal to let him use his blood for the spells protecting the church, refusing to do his part to protect Sam because of the fear his “loving” god would spank him for it. Dean snorted softly. No, Dean certainly wouldn’t mind if the demon that came hunting them took out the priest before they got rid of it. He was useless.

Even though the older man had managed to contain, and even wound him, when he’d tried to escape the first time. Dean attributed that more to luck than skill. If he’d had his powers then, the priest would have been nothing but a steaming pile of meat once Dean was through with him.

It was really too bad that Dean already knew it would be futile to try to convince Sam of the most reasonable plan of action. To leave the church with him and leave the two older men alone to face what was coming. If the demon came and found only the two hunters, it would have nothing to report back to Azazel, simple as that. But Dean knew Sam would never sacrifice his “friends” that way, so he had to come up with another plan. Banishing a demon to hell was rather easy, killing one was much harder.

Dean watched as Sam added his blood to his own in the bowl at Bobby’s request, nodding slightly in approval. The hunter caught on quick. A faint smile curved Dean’s lips when Sam sat beside him and he held his hand out obediently for the younger man at his request. Watching his brother carefully, Dean was fascinated by the play of emotions crossing Sam’s face. The light flush that touched the younger man’s cheeks making Dean’s smile broaden and he reached up with his other hand to gently caress Sam’s face with the backs of his knuckles, his thumb tracing the younger man’s lower lip.

Bobby’s sudden exclamation drew his attention however and Dean’s hand dropped once more as he turned to see what had happened. His eyebrows drawing up slightly as he watched the reaction their blood and the spell had upon the hex bag.

“Not normally so powerful.” Dean replied to the older man’s question, even though he felt it was rather obvious by this point.

“The runes, much like the ones protecting the church walls, protect the wearer against demonic energy. Salt, holy water, and iron are fucking useless if a demon decides to just make your heart explode in your chest or disintegrate you in a flash of light.” Dean actually smirked. “If a demon tries anything against someone wearing that ward, they’re going to be in for a surprise.”

Sam leaned into Dean's touch and smiled, his gaze locking with Dean's. Bobby explicative drew his attention and he watched in fascination as the spell wrapped itself around the hex bag. Sam had to bite back his laughter at Dean's nonchalance about it.

Bobby shook his head. "Okay, so apparently I don't know as much about demon magic as I thought. I didn't expect it to do more than give a bit of a glow that faded, no matter how strong the magic. When we get time, I'd really like us to have a sit down and you give me a bit of a lesson in some of this."

Motioning Sam to hand over his hex bag, Sam quickly complied to Bobby's request. Bobby glanced surreptitiously at Dean. He'd seen the play between the brothers. Sam's flush. Dean's touch. Dammit. He was going to owe Jim a bottle of good wine when they got out of here. Jim called it right. But after the show those boys apparently gave Jim, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised Jim was right. He just never expected Sam to swing that way. He guessed Sam considered Dean more of a long lost friend instead of a long lost brother and Bobby was more than happy to think that way than that they were brothers having sex—no, making love, Bobby decided. Two friends, in love. He would cling to that concept rather than think of that nasty little word 'incest'.

"Salt lines are reinforced, devil's traps are all in good order," Jim said as he walked into the room. His gaze swept over the three men as their gazes swung to him. He knew good and well Bobby sent him off to check everything to give him time to readjust his thinking.

Jim had been a hunter long before he had become a priest. It had been a long time since priest and hunter beliefs collided with one another. Right now he had to be a hunter first. Church or not, this was their battle ground and Bobby was right. Tools were tools and if that meant demonic tools were going to be used to fight a war against demons…well, God probably wouldn't approve, but Jim would beg forgiveness later. These were John's boys. They were in his care and he would do whatever it took to see them safe.

"Dean gave me some runes to write on your hex bag," Bobby said to Jim. "In blood. You okay with that?" Bobby asked eyeing the man. He wasn't quite sure which side of the fence Jim was going to come down on.

Jim pulled off his hexbag and tossed it onto the table. "Whatever it takes, Bobby." Jim swung his attention back to the brothers.

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did," he said to Dean. "I've been a priest first and a hunter second for so long…I just haven't had to be a hunter first, not in years. And most times I've seen runes like these," he waved his hand at the bloody sigils, "they've been associated with some horrific scenes."

Grinning, Sam bobbed his head once. "That's okay, Jim. I'm glad you're okay with it now."

Jim raised an eyebrow at him. "I am not okay with it. I think it's blasphemy and I have no doubt I'll be making amends for this for years to come. But, if this is what it takes to keep you two boys alive, then this is what it takes. If these tools will keep John safe from the demons, then I'll chant the damning words and write the bloody runes. The survival of you two are the most important thing to me. And not just because you both would make powerful tools in the demon's army, but because you are John's sons and John is like my brother. He just got you both back. I won't see him lose you again." He looked pointedly at Dean. "Either of you."

The flash of the activating runes on Sam's hexbag drew Jim's eyes. "Sonufabitch, that's one hell of a spell. Getting gold out of black magic is not an easy feat."

Jim pulled the paper Dean had drawn the symbols on over to him. After reading them he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Good lord, I am going to burn in Hell for this," he muttered.

Bobby scowled at him as he handed Sam's hexbag back to the young hunter. "You can read that?"

"Bobby, you may have mastered far more lore and ancient tongues that I could ever hope to in my entire life, but I am a hunter-priest. Of course I can read the enemy's tongue. I'm limited in that I've only ever laid hands on two books with the writings in it, but I can read it well enough."

"How come you never told me…" Bobby began, thoroughly irritated.

"Because it's only useful when you're going head to head with demons, and we're usually not that stupid." Walking over to his backpack, Jim opened a pouch and pulled out a thin black wooden box with glyphs and silver lines coating its surface. He handed it to Bobby. "We may need these." Jim refocused on Dean. "There are a couple spells in those books that I was never able to sort out. Maybe they'll be useful to you. I've got a feeling they, like these symbols you put on the walls, aren't your everyday magic.

Jim motioned to the door he just came through. "I found a ladder in a closet down in the hall you boys can use to finish up fortifying the church."

"We're done, Jim. All the walls have been handled," Sam said, confused.

Jim folded his arms across his chest. "You don't think it might be a good idea to slap one of those protective sigils on the ceiling and one on the floor?"

Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly when the hunter suggested they have a “sit down” later to discuss demon magic, and wondered briefly if the man was deranged. As though Dean had forgotten how their last little “sit down” had gone, the two older hunters torturing him, which to be honest Dean couldn’t really fault them for. It was expected, after all, he had been a prisoner, and he might even be able to respect them a little for it, because at least then it had been honest. But this… Dean wasn’t even sure what to call it. This forced civility, as though they’d forgotten everything that had happened before the moment Sam had lost control and they’d been forced to release him in order to save the younger man. As though they’d completely forgotten who, and what, he was, and he was supposed to do the same now.

He had put up the blood spells on the walls to protect Sam. He hadn’t tried to kill the two older men also because of Sam. He had given Bobby the runes to write upon the hex bags for his own protection and Sam’s, and while that protection would also extend to the other hunters that was also because of Sam. So it was less likely that Sam would do something foolish to save his “friends” if something bad happened.

Sitting down for “chats”, modified interrogation sessions, to share all his secrets, was certainly not in the deal. Quite frankly, the older men’s new behavior around him was making him uncomfortable and suspicious. Especially when the priest came into the workroom and actually apologized to him. Dean’s frown only deepened when Jim made his little speech about not wanting to lose him. Yeah… right… If he went down in the fight that was to come the only one who would be shedding any tears for him would be Sam, and that was fine with him. Sam was all he cared about, just like Sam was all the hunters cared about. At least they could fucking admit it.

When the priest mentioned the ladder and suggested some more runes be placed on the ceiling Dean was all too happy to have an excuse to leave the room.

“I’ll do it.” He said as he pushed himself up from the chair. Ignoring the lingering weakness he felt as he pushed past the priest and walked out the door. He was rested enough to perform at least two more spells, even if he wasn’t, there wasn’t anyone else who could.

Bobby and Jim glanced at each other when Dean made his rapid escape from the room. They had both seen his growing scowl, had seen his eyes grow dark.

Jim knew the young man didn't believe him. Dean had been as distrustful of his olive branch when they shared a meal as he was now. He was certain he hadn't scored any points when his knee-jerk reaction to the horrible bloody runes on the wall had almost made him lose his meal and furthermore he refused to help. Perhaps admitting he hadn't really had a change of heart, but simply realized what was necessary hadn't helped anything either. Was he supposed to lie to the man? A part of Jim wasn't comfortable with Dean running around loose and he would readily admit that. He suspected Sam was the only reason the man hadn't struck both he and Bobby down the instant Sam was out of danger…and the man probably thought the same. Expected Jim and Bobby to try to put him back in chains. Expected nothing but the worst from them. That is what he had been taught growing up. Certainly Jim being a priest was an additional mark against him. Considering how fast everything had happened, he couldn't blame Dean but really, what were Bobby and Jim supposed to do?

Sam trusted him…Sam trusted them. Dean was staying on the straight and narrow because of Sam. He had never had anyone care about him other than Sam. Jim and Bobby had tortured him. To be fair, he felt justified in what they had done, even if the response to the liquid had been violently painful. One of his best friends lay in a hospital bed in ICU because of this man. They all knew quite well what Dean was capable of.

"Convince him we're on his side, Sam. At least we would like to be," Jim said.

"Give the kid some time, Jim," Bobby said gruffly. "He don't trust us anymore than we trust him. If not for Sam, he would be dead by now and he knows it."

"And the reverse is probably true," Jim countered.

"He don't understand forgiveness and that ain't going to change just cause we want it to. Besides, one look at John and I gotta admit, I still want to put the boy on the ground. He's protecting Sam, not us Jim, and don't be forgetting that. We've given him no reason to think we care if he lives or dies. If not for John and Sam, we wouldn't."

Jim shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what more I can do to convince him."

Bobby pierced Jim with a look. "Tell me you really care what happens to him. Not what happens to John's eldest boy, but what happens to that man out in the hall, the man who tried to kill you."

Blanching, Jim looked away from Bobby. He gave a slow nod. "Point taken," Jim said softly.

"Honesty's the best policy and all that crap. Jim, you're all torn up inside about him. You want to be the priest that feels sorry for him and forgives him, the hunter who wants to kill him, and the man that's just a little afraid of him but is trying to bluff his way through all the same. Be honest with yourself first. Then maybe try being honest with him like a man, not a priest. I ain't sorted out everything I'm feeling, but he'll protect Sam…assuming it's not all part of his mission. He's got a lot of knowledge that half the hunters in the world would damn near kill to get. I doubt he'll share anything he doesn't have to to keep Sam alive but I'm hopeful anyhow. Considering what he's done so far," Bobby gave an offhand wave to the walls, "don't know that it's rightly sunk into the boy that he can't go back to what he was. That he's got to survive in a world that he just don't understand and he will likely be hunted the rest of his days. I imagine he's a little bit scared by all that too. Lord knows I would be. He ain't never had no one to depend on but himself. I'd lay a good deal of money on the table he doesn't really understand what a friend is. I get the feeling with him it's all or nothing." He glanced at Sam with a bit of raised eyebrow.

Sam sat silently, listening to the older hunters exchange their thoughts. He had been pleased when Jim and Bobby seemed to be dealing well with Dean being free. Dean had more than made it clear to Sam his opinion of the two men. He wondered if Dean's distaste for his friends was further complicated by a bit of jealousy. Dean didn't want to share Sam anymore than Sam wanted to share Dean. And while Bobby didn't explicitly say it, Sam thought Bobby suspected Dean's loyalty to Sam was from his and his brother's growing relationship… and that just made Sam uncomfortable. The way he wanted Dean, needed Dean, sort of scared him too. What was going to happen when this was all over and they managed to walk out of it alive? If his dad found out Dean and he were banging each other, hitting the roof was the understatement of the century. That Bobby seemed semi-okay with it was odd enough. Then again, Bobby only suspected. He hoped

Sam winced as he remembered Dean touching his face just seconds ago, running his thumb over Sam's lips like a lover would, right in front of Bobby. Sam realized Bobby was probably trying really hard to ignore the situation. If he had to face it head on—and if Jim discovered it?—it just wasn't going to go well no matter what. Dean knew Sam didn't want the two men to know about their relationship and that probably wasn't helping the trust issue.

Pushing himself to his feet he told the hunters, "I need to go help him." He paused at the doorway, looking back in at them. "Thanks for trying to understand him. I'll try to get him to understand, too."

Sam hurried down the hall and found Dean setting up the ladder. He came up behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist and kissing him on the neck. "Let me do these two. I know you can do it, but you've barely caught your breath from the others you did and you haven't had a chance to get any food into you. If we've got company coming, you need to be strong enough to fight them. You know I can't control my powers. And you need to cut Jim a break. He's trying. So's Bobby."

Dean had found the ladder exactly where the priest had said it was and had already finished setting it up by the time he felt Sam come up behind him and wrap his arms around him. Sam’s embrace had always managed to calm him, no matter how much he was hurting physically or mentally, and now was no different. Especially when the arms wrapped around him, the lips gently brushing his neck, were warm and solid rather than the barely there ghostly touch they had always been before. Dean closed his eyes in contentment and leaned back into the younger man’s body.

He wondered if Sam had done it on purpose to distract him a little from hearing what he knew he wouldn’t like. Even though Sam’s offer to complete these last runes didn’t exactly sit well with him the other man, it was Sam’s next words that made him stiffen slightly in his brother’s arms. Gently scolding him for his behavior.

Dean huffed out a sigh before he straightened once more, though he didn’t pull away from Sam yet.

“I don’t want them to try.” He stated simply as he turned around in his brother’s arms, slipping his own arms around Sam’s waist and tugging the younger man a bit closer. “And I don’t want you to try this, not yet anyway. You’re right, you can’t control your powers, and until you can demon magic is the last thing you should be trying. If you lose control again it will exhaust me much more than this trying to fight you.”

Dean leaned forward and brushed his lips over his brother’s to sooth any sting his words might have caused. He was touched that Sam wanted to help him, but he couldn’t let the younger man do this. He honestly didn’t know if his brother had another episode like before if he’d even have the strength to stop him a second time.

“I’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean reassured as he pulled back and released his brother, not waiting for the younger man’s reply before he started climbing the ladder. Taking the knife out he’d been using before he reopened the cut in his hand enough to get his blood flowing again. Even as he did thinking again on how he wished he had his own. Dean glanced down at his brother briefly, he supposed now was as good a time as any to bring it up without having to worry about the two older hunters.

“Where are my things? My knives?”

Sam loved how Dean relaxed back into him anytime he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. It made him feel so trusted, and for a man like Dean to trust him, that was beyond special. He felt his brother stiffen at his words, followed by a sigh and denial.

"You're not going back to that demon if I've got anything to say about it. In this world, in this life, friends are a good thing to have, whether you want them or not. I know you don't believe it, but Bobby and Jim and good men and trustworthy friends."

Sam was pleased when Dean turned to face him. He knew Dean was right about Sam's powers. It would be dangerous for him to try such a spell so he didn't argue. Sam welcomed the light kiss, sighing when Dean stepped away from him.

"I know you won't. And I won't let anything happen to you," Sam answered him, watching his brother climb the ladder and reopen his wounded palm. "Hey, jerk, get down here so I can add some of my blood to yours. Your stuff is in the other room. We didn't go to your hotel room or track down your car, though. Figured those might be under surveillance and we weren't really up for another fight at the time. And we ditched your cell phone."

Sam reopened his own wound and tugged on Dean's pants leg. When Dean leaned down he dribbled his blood into Dean's palm. He studied the ladder a moment and decided it wasn't up to handling the weight of both of them. So instead he stood and watched, his hand lightly resting on Dean's calf, hoping the physical contact would offer Dean additional strength. But he also stood ready to catch his brother if his brother wavered. Besides, the view of Dean up on the ladder was a really good angle as far as Sam was concerned.

Dean didn’t bother to hide the flash of annoyance that crossed his face and the roll of his eyes when Sam said he needed “friends” whether he wanted them or not. Yeah, right, whatever. He had a feeling his brother knew his opinion on that bit of bullshit pretty quickly. But he didn’t really want to argue the point with the younger man right now, so he remained silent. He kept his opinion regarding Sam’s previous words, about him returning to Azazel, much more hidden.

Sooner or later Azazel was going to find him. It wasn’t a question of “if” but “when” and there were only a few ways it was going to play out. Dean would do whatever was in his power that when Azazel finally did find him, he didn’t find Sam with him. He would do whatever he could to make sure that his father never found Sam, or at least his brother would have the means to defend himself if the time came Azazel did find him. But his fate had already been sealed long ago, and nothing Sam did was going to change that.

His father would find him, and he would be punished. As a failure… as a traitor… The level of that punishment could vary by degrees but Dean had little doubt it would eventually end with his death. His soul would be sent to hell, and he would never know a moment without pain ever again. Almost more frightening to him however was the knowledge he would never see Sam again… which was one of the reasons he did not want to argue with Sam right now. He just wanted to have this time, no matter how brief it was, to be with him. Greedily clinging to whatever moments they had together like a starving dog eating whatever scraps were thrown to him.

Dean huffed out a small laugh when Sam tugged on his jeans and he leaned down to accept his brother’s blood in his palm before straightening on the ladder again. Pushing all other thoughts from his mind as he concentrated on the spell he began to mark on the ceiling, though his lips pulled into a small smile feeling the younger man’s hand on his leg.

He finished the spell and closed his eyes against a wave of dizziness that washed over him, gripping the ladder a little tighter for a moment. Sam was right, he definitely wasn’t fully recovered, but he would have some time to rest and regain his strength later. He could sense the demon getting closer, but its progress had definitely been slowed. Maybe it was more confused by the burst of power it had felt than Dean realized. Maybe it couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it had come from, either because of the holy ground or the protections Dean had already put up over the church, or any number of reasons. Whatever it was, it was good.

Though Dean did have to admit he was a bit surprised only one seeker was coming, if Sam was that important to his father he would have thought the demons would have been out in droves. Instead there had only been Dumah and one other demon who had attacked Sam, now this one, not even a very powerful demon by the feel of it, little more intelligence than a hellhound sniffing around for blood.

Maybe they just hadn’t taken into account that the hunters would remain roughly in the same area and not hightail it out of town like they should have done. Underestimating, or more likely overestimating, their opponent, Dean supposed that reason was as good as any. It was better than considering the demons were holding back purposefully, for some reason. Dean didn’t know why they would, but whatever the reason it couldn’t be a good one.

Dean opened his eyes, shook his head slightly to clear it, and climbed carefully back down the ladder. Giving his brother a brief reassuring look before he knelt down on the ground, this was as good a place as any to place the final runes. By the time Dean was finished he was panting more than slightly and he felt sweat dripping down his back and over his brow. He had to close his eyes again and fight off another wave of dizziness.

“I’m done.” He panted softly, meaning both with the runes and anything else for that matter, pretty sure he wouldn’t be moving on his own power any time soon.

Sam watched his brother waver a bit and tensed, ready to help his brother if needed. He breathed a little sigh of relief when Dean was back on terra firma. Dean's attempt at a reassuring look was weakened by his rapid breathing and the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Sam almost stopped him, but knew the runes were needed and it was the last set. When Dean knelt to mark the runes, Sam placed his hand on Dean's back, welcoming the power that wrapped them both in its tendrils.

When Dean finally finished, Sam caught him and pulled him back from collapsing on the newly drawn runes. Sam hated how exhausted he looked, how pale. He ran his hand along the side of Dean's face as he knelt beside his brother. He gave the man a light kiss.

"You shouldn't push yourself so hard but I know you're doing it for me, to protect me. You're right. You're done and now you need to eat and get some sleep."

Sam pulled his brother's arm up and over his shoulder.

"C'mon. Back to the work room. I refuse to sleep in the hall when there is a comfy air mattress in the other room just waiting for us."

With a grunt, Sam got Dean on his feet. Honestly, Sam was tired too, though he was certainly not as exhausted as his brother. Sam supported most of Dean's weight as they stumbled back toward the room.

With the ending of the demonic words reverberating in the hall, Jim stuck his head out the doorway and saw Sam laboring back with his load.

"Bobby, Sam needs help getting Dean back in here," Jim said.

While Bobby left to aid the brothers, Jim dumped out their untouched coffee. Both the young men needed sleep not caffeine and instead set up the orange juice boxes and some bottled water. Jim retrieved a few paper plates and quickly laid out some food for them, using what Sam had brought out before that they hadn't had a chance to eat before Dean huffed his way out of the room.

Bobby and Sam got Dean settled in a chair and Sam collapsed beside him. He gave a nod of thanks to Jim.

Sam nudged Dean to eat, while he himself partook of a few donuts and the orange juice. He felt better almost immediately as the sugar hit his system. He was too tired to think about eating the apple and settle on eating the cheese and rinsing it down with the water. After wiping his hands clean, he looked over at his brother who had mirrored his own choices in food, but looked like he was ready to fall asleep where he sat.

"Let's get some sleep while we can, Dean," Sam said softly, practically shaking Dean awake and he helped him back to the mattress. He wasn't entirely certain that Dean wasn't asleep before he even hit the mattress. Too tired to even care what Jim and Bobby might think, Sam settled behind Dean spooning up against him and pulling the blanket over them both. He threw an arm over Dean, nudged a little closer, and fell asleep almost instantly, welcoming the waiting arms of sleep.