Dean woke at the usual time, but he didn't move right away. Still shaken from the night before, he wasn't sure what to expect when he emerged from his sleeping place and he was tired and heartsick over the whole mess. Somewhere along the line, probably the night he was turned, his life had turned to quicksand. The harder the tried, the deeper he sank.

There was no place for him anywhere. Back in Shreveport, he was a freak among monsters. Here with Sam, he was his brother's own, personal albatross. A weight to slow him down and make his life more dangerous. Beyond that... after a night of feeling Sam's lust and self-loathing over and over, he wasn't really sure Sam would even want to look at him.

Sadly, he couldn't hide under the bed all night. Eventually, he dragged himself out and did his best not to wince at the way his face and hands burned. His first honest to god sunburn since his turning. Eric would be so amused at his stupidity. Or maybe not. When he didn't want Dean dead, he was almost friendly.