"You gave it." Anger's so much easier than this, the sickening swell of fear that threatens to drop him in his tracks.

He doesn't even have to try to remember the feel of mud under his knees, the weight of Sam in his arms, Sam trying to speak and failing, his breathing slowing and his body going slack, slipping away forever without Dean being able to stop it.

Dean has both hands wrapped tight in Sam's shirt front before he can stop himself, and gives him a hard shake. "You could have died! Again! It was a stupid fucking risk to take, Sammy, what the hell were you thinking?"