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Summary
Sam thinks, I hate witches. His knees are bumping against the glove compartment and he’s annoyed about the fact that his t-shirt is wet around the collar.
Then, he thinks about Dean. Thinking of Dean’s face as the water rolled over his eyelashes, down his neck and into his t-shirt. How his t-shirt stuck to his chest where it was wet. Sam glances over toward his brother in the driver’s seat and watches how the headlights shine across his eyes, the bridge of his nose. Sam notices his freckles for the first time in ages. They seem so clear even in the dark. Everything about Dean seems so suddenly, startlingly intense.