The rock hissed, lurched, and finally went inert. Sam turned to Dean, who stood watching glassy-eyed, pale, and sweaty. "Let me see your hand."
Dean pulled his hand protectively toward his chest.
Sam's fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist, and he pulled. "C'mon, sit down. Lemme take care of this." The younger Winchester cleaned the burn and surrounding punctures with holy water. He spread burn cream on Dean's palm before wrapping everything in gauze.
Trembling, Dean muttered. "Now you."
Sam quickly treated his burned fingers.
"What IS that thing?" asked Dean.
"I've no idea. But we better find out and fast."