Once again, stolen dialogue.  this time from No Rest For The Wicked. 


Sam can practically hear the clock ticking in his brain, tick tock tick tock, and it is killing him. He keeps stealing glances at Dean, watching him, making sure he hasn't been taken from him too early, trying to memorise every single detail of his face, and in private moments, his body, running fingers over scars, over muscles and skin, committing everything to memory.

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