Dean was dying. There, he admitted it to himself for once instead of ignoring it until the last possible second. Yeah, his older brother had a foot in the grave. Sam was trying so hard to find something, anything to help him get better, whether it cost him his soul or not. He was burnt out and could barely stay awake anymore. It didn't help that Dean was acting so cool about the whole thing and was refusing every option Sam threw at him. Fuck Sam just wanted to cry. But he had called you, his favorite girl in the whole world, last night, so he couldn't wouldn't cry until you were here with him. Even if he was breaking down at the kitchen table while Dean slept on the sofa. You were hunting in the state over, so Sam wasn't worried you'd get here too late. But still…he was impatient and antsy. He just wanted to hold you again. Tell you how gorgeous he thought you were and how good you made him feel in every single way. He bit his finger, closing his eyes tight just thinking about how much he needed you. A soft knock came at the motel door, and he nearly fell out of his chair to get the door for you, crushing you with a hug at the first sight of your concerned eyes.