He hears it in Sam's tone that he'd been waiting for Dean, almost, that Dean's what he's been wanting to see because that's one of those tones that cuts straight through him. He's still barely breathing, just quick, short bursts as he tries to figure out if this is real or another of those dreams, the ones that feel so real, but Sam can barely stand up. Real Sam or dream Sam, it's almost impossible for Dean to stand here and watch without helping.

He's not really aware of walking, but he gets to his brother's side and touches his shoulder before he sits next to him, his eyes wide and searching, and he wishes he wasn't also thinking about how fast he can get to his knife, but he is.

"Sammy, what is it? Are you hurt?" He looks like he's fresh from the trials, and it's not helping Dean's worry any.