A calloused hand on his forehead.

"What the hell? What's wrong?"

Dean felt sweat dripping down his temples.

"M side really hurts." Dean gasped, not caring that he looked weak in front of his Dad. He just wanted the pain to go away.

Fingers gently ghosted over his abdomen, causing a new sharp wave of pain.

"How long?" John's voice urgent and concerned.

"Two days." Dean mumbled pained, the stabbing pain increasing even more.

"Shit. Okay, let's get you back to the car and to a hospital."

"Sammy?" Dean's eyes drooping, breathing ragged.

"He's in the car. C'mon, let's go."



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