"Stop it, Sam!" Dean made an angry growl of a noise and pushed himself up off the bed, swinging one leg over Sam to pin him, his hands pressed to Sam's shoulders. "We're not talking about this. We'll take the trials as they come, one step at a time, and we're not gonna just suck it up and act like we're giving up on keeping you alive, you hear me? We're not just accepting that you could die. You didn't give up on me when I was goin' to Hell, I'm not giving up on you now."
He let out a small huff of air and leaned down to kiss Sam, hard and demanding, his hands slipping up to both thread through Sam's hair, and he wasn't going to talk about this anymore. They might have failed in saving Dean from Hell, but he wasn't going to let Sam just die too. Not a chance.