WARNING: Spoilers for if you haven't seen the Pilot. Though if that's the case I'm confused as to how you're here. Lol

Author's Note: This is for mb64, who requested "socks" and "doughnuts" to be used in a happier Drabble. This one takes place mid-season one, but at no specific time, and is from Sam's POV. I want to thank insertisernamehere, jojospn, judyann, mb64, LeeMarieJack, zekeschance, kjdw, GuestJ, ImpalaLove, kingdommast, TG, ebonywarrior85, and SPNxBookworm for their recent reviews and support. And thanks to every reader! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

The thing about living in motels with my big brother is that, from time to time, I reach a point where I just want to bang my head against a wall in frustration.

I get tired of the big stuff quickly; the obvious stuff.

Like the fact that I can't get more than thirty feet away from him unless I actually leave to go somewhere. And when I do he tries convincing me that we both should go to a bar instead.

Or the way that, every morning, he sends me on the breakfast run.

Now, I don't mind going out. Like I said, the space is welcome after a while...It's that he never offers to do it himself because somewhere along the line it became my unofficial job.

And he doesn't even send me to get food I like! It's always doughnuts or greasy breakfast burritos, because as he puts it, why not start the day happy? As if gross fast food is the equivalent of joy or something.

So yeah, the big stuff gets annoying pretty fast. But the little things become the most irksome after a while.

They may take longer to get irritating, but they eventually become practically unbearable.

Like the way Dean loves to toss his dirty socks in the bathroom sink that I'm forced to share with him. I mean, who does that? It's just plain disgusting!

Or I could mention the way he always takes the bed closest to the door.

I know he does it out of habit. He's doing it so that if anyone ever busted in on us they'd hit him first and he'd have a head start on protecting me from the threat.

He means well, but that doesn't make me feel better about it. I'm a full grown man! I don't need to be guarded like a child.

Yeah, there's a list a mile long of small stuff like those. And honestly, sometimes I wonder why I even put up with this arrangement, because living with him can be a complete nightmare...

And then something will happen and I'll remember why.

For example, while I'm on the topic of nightmares, I had one last night. I hadn't had one in a while. Not in a few weeks anyway...

But last night I saw her on the ceiling again.

I woke up still feeling the heat of the flames burning above my head; still seeing Jess's face as the fire consumed her...

I don't know if I was making noise or if he just sensed I was upset, but by the time I realized I was awake, Dean was too.

He sat on the edge of his bed facing mine and asked me if I wanted to talk about it.

I said I didn't because I just...There wasn't a point to describing it again, you know?

And instead of brushing it off and going back to bed, my brother said, "Ok. So what do you want to talk about?" Simple as that, as if I hadn't just interrupted the best sleep he'd had in nearly three days.

Because we'd been hunting a spirit practically nonstop the past sixty-something hours, and neither of us had slept more than four hours or so that whole time.

But here Dean was, casually offering to stay up through the night, again, if the chatting would help calm me down.

And we did talk.

For a couple hours, we talked about everything and about nothing.

He told me a story about some girl he hooked up with at a bar a few years back. There was a twist ending to the story, where the girl turned out to be a key witness he needed to talk to a day later for the case he was on.

I cracked up as he recounted their awkward conversation, in which Dean had to explain that, no, he wasn't actually a movie producer like he'd told her before, and yes, he really was an undercover FBI agent.

He tried telling me to shut up as I laughed, but I could tell he was just glad I was laughing.

Then I told him about my first week of school and how I scared my history professor with my extensive knowledge of religious practices. More specifically, the really gruesome sacrificial ones.

He was snickering then and told me the professor definitely must have assumed I was some kind of psychotic murderer from a satan worshiping cult or something.

I smiled and agreed.

And that's when I realized how, just by being there- just by being him- Dean had managed to get me laughing and smiling, after having been on the verge of a total breakdown not two hours before.

It made me understand that living in a cramped motel with my obnoxious older sibling is frustrating, and sometimes I do want to punch him for being such a difficult roommate...

But sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I couldn't be more grateful that he's who I've got with me.

Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope this was lighter because goodness knows I'm over-due for that. Lol I've got great requests in line, but more are always welcome! And reviews are sincerely appreciated. ;)

P.S. I know I said this series doesn't have regular updates, but I was on a good update streak for a while and I do apologize for the week-long gap. I also apologize for any blaring typos/errors in this, because I had to type the whole thing on my iPhone. My internet service has been down in my area for over a day now, so I only have access through my Version LTE. :P