Pain shot like fire down his arm where Dean was jamming his thumb against the bundle of nerves. It was enough to slice through the fire and the blood long enough for him to let go of the steering wheel.

Oh no, Sammy. Not so easy this time, is it? Not when you know that I'm right.

He made a low, tight sound of pain, forcing his hand to grab his brother's forearm.

Dean was real. He could hang onto that.