Previous to this story, Dean received a concussion and took one too many painkillers:

"I'm going to take a shower," Sam said as he rummaged through his bag for a set of clean clothes. "Are you going to be OK by yourself?" He turned and looked at his older brother.

Dean's only response was to stare at the motel room's only window.

"Dean?"

"Dude, do you like these curtains?" Dean pointed at the hideous purple and orange-striped curtains that hung over the window.

"Uh, not really…" Sam looked quizzically at his older brother. "Why?"

Dean only shrugged.

Sam's gaze flicked from Dean to the curtains. "I'm going to grab a shower," he attempted to catch his brother's attention. "Don't do anything dangerous or stupid while I'm in the bathroom, alright Dean?"

Dean gave no indication that he'd heard Sam's instructions.

. . .

Ten minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom with wet, wavy locks of hair hanging limply around his face.

His first reaction upon entering the room was to feel relief. There were no blood splatters, mysterious stains, or dead people lying on the floor.

However, the feeling was short-lived as he noticed several peculiar things. The first was that the ugly striped curtains were no longer hanging in the room. The second was that Dean was sitting next to a medium-sized aluminum trash can that was spouting flames.

"Dean, what the--" Sam rushed over to his brother's side. He took a look at the trash can and caught a glimpse of purple and orange cloth amidst the bright, hot flames.

"Dean, you didn't," Sam groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "What were you thinking?!"

"Fire, it's…pretty," was Dean's simple reply. He turned his head and gave Sam a wide, childish grin.

"It has to be put out," Sam took Dean's elbow and tried to pull him away from the trash can.

"But…fire--" Dean began to protest.

"Yeah, Dean: fire! It burns stuff and makes a lot smoke. You can't start one in a motel room!" Aggravated, Sam grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him away from the fire and sat him on the bed.

Dean pouted and looked forlornly at Sam.

Sam sighed and went back over to the flaming trash can. Dean was the older brother and had not only devoted a lot of his life to hunting, but to raising Sam and making sure that he was safe. Dean always had Sam's back, but this time, Sam realized that he would have to be the one watching out for his brother.