As he sat there, Dean started to fade in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he would feel alert, almost ready to sit up on his own, and then gradually he'd grow more and more weak and his eyes would close. It seemed that the periods of alertness were growing farther and farther in between, that he was more slumping against the wall instead of sitting up, and he knew his mind wasn't exactly working as it should, but he wasn't worried.
He felt Claire's hands on him, and he grinned. Just the corners of his lips turned up, but he was grinning none the less. "You're pretty. Really pretty...but I didn't think feeling me up in public was your thing. Besides, if you want the prize in the box, you have to go just a little bit lower."
Ruby made a movement, which put Dean on as much of an alert as he could be given the circumstances, and he could already feel the heavy tiredness washing over him again. He was going to pass out again soon, and he knew that was a bad thing. Any minute now the bad guys could come back, and when they did he didn't even have anything to fight with. Seeing that Ruby was extending her knife (and not realizing it was meant for Claire), he tried to lean up, only making it a few inches, to reach for it. "Thanks, I don't know what happened to mine."