Dean sort of laid there, in and out of focus and consciousness. He could see Jo, and see the trees, and see Mary... some of the time. She was there, but moving around. And he couldn't be sure he wasn't hallucinating.
He was pretty much down for the count, though whatever Jo had shot him with wasn't fully taking hold. Another slurred version of his brother's name came out of his mouth before he started to mouth Mary's name.
Jo had to be okay. She had to. Cause Mary wouldn't exist if she wasn't.