He sat up, Asia playing, Dean alive. Sam liked this part best, right here, in the room, first thing.
When he still had control.
Until Dean choked on toothpaste. Or smothered himself with his tee-shirt. Broke his skull on the headboard. Electrocuted himself with the Magic Fingers… maybe morning wasn't that great.
But it was better than 11:58 PM. He'd gotten Dean there eleven times. The last time a frozen brick of toilet waste from a passing plane came through the ceiling.
Hell, he was going to be late. He ran for the bathroom. Watching Dean gargle was the best.
