They did manage to find a patch of even ground, and set up the tent--an heavy-duty green model, subdivided into two rooms. Dean came staggering down the hill as they were stretching out the sun/rain roof and attaching the lead cables to trees, looking all the worse for wear. "'scuse me," he called. "Sorry. Think I got into an accident--?"

Adam groaned. "You too, Dean? Memory problems?" He knotted off one rope, giving Dean a friendly wave. "Seriously, I think I've just proved that the back seat is the safest place to be."

"And wear your seatbelt," Sam said, because it seemed like as good a time as any to bring it up.

"Let's take a look at you," Adam said, stepping over the tent cables and taking Dean's head in his hands. "Your eyes look fine."

"Stop that," Dean said, slapping his hands away. "Headache. That's all."

"And you didn't remember us," Sam said.

"We're going to camp here tonight," Adam said. "Give our wounded a chance to rest."

"I'm fine," Dean said. "God, Adam, you and my grandmother."

Adam smiled. "Yeah." He shrugged. "I'm going for wood. Not that I'll have to go far." He motioned toward the path of devastation the Impala had carved. "One of you start a fire."

"Fire," Dean said, in exactly the same absent way someone should never use when considering starting a campfire in a forest. "Yeah."

"Enjoy," Adam said, and wandered off.