Dean glanced around at his surroundings, making sure no one was close enough to catch sight of Sam nestled in the crook of his neck. There was no one visible for miles, flatland stretching away from them. The junkyard behind Bobby’s house was visible, the metal of the cars glinting in the light. He just needed to stop in, ask Bobby for some–
Dean’s foot caught on the step, making him stumble forward with a curse. He slammed against the banister, catching the rail with one hand. Sam, not expecting the sudden forward motion, almost went flying, catching the edge of Dean’s shirt. He slammed into the hunter’s chest, dangling free while Dean took a deep breath, startled from the close call.
Wincing, he pried his hand off the banister at the same time as his other hand cupped under Sam’s dangling body. Blood welled up from where a splinter had stabbed into Dean’s skin.
He signed, ignoring it. “You okay, Sammy?”
Sam dropped onto his hand, knees collapsing under him. “Do us all a favor, and watch where you’re going, next time?”