Dean: (goggle-eyed) How'd you know?

Bobby: 'Cause that's what happens when you've got hellhounds on your butt. And 'cause I'm smart.

Sam: (bitchface)

"How you holding up?"

Dean grunts, sniffles and limps past Bobby to the coffee maker.

"Stuff's hard on the stomach, kid."

The grin's too wide. "Not gonna have a stomach that much longer."

"Your faith is touching." Bobby hefts his book. "Lucky for you-"

Sucking in a breath, Dean flinches. He stares hard at Bobby's face.

Bobby's up, goosebumped, scanning the room. "What? What is it?"

"Uh." Dean's bone white. He rubs his brow and blows out air. "Hoo. N-nothing. Too much coffee I guess." He palms his belly, shoots a flickering smile at Bobby and sets down the cup.