Dean walked inside, carrying bags of supplies he knew Sam needed. He hummed as he unpacked everything, laying them out on the table.

Sam stirred, the sheets and blanket rustling softly on his bed. Dean counted down in his head. As soon as he reached one, Sam pitched forward and sneezed viciously into the motel comforter.

Grimacing in disgust, Dean brought over a box of lotiony Kleenex, which his brother hungrily snatched and immediately used.

Dean sat next to him, a sympathetic smile on his face. "It's February...I can't believe they wouldn't even let you keep your socks on…"