Sam shifted in the dark and turned over to face Dean. He couldn't see the digital clock's glowing red numbers beyond his brother's body but he didn't care enough to lift up. His tongue was aching in rhythmic pulses of pain. Moving it even slightly made it worse. At least the taste of blood was gone, replaced by sweet 'n sour sauce and chicken nuggets.

He tried to fall back to sleep, his cognitive haze still lingering. It'd take another day or so to feel completely right. In the meanwhile, as much sleep as possible. Sam sighed and closed his eyes. He hadn't been dreaming; he rarely did after seizures. Ordinarily Sam didn't care one way or the other but with the dreams he'd been having he considered it a blessing and counted it.

Dean moved sluggishly next to him and let out a deep sigh with just the slightest vocalization in it. It sounded deliberate. Sam looked up in the dark. Dean's head tilted.

"You 'wake?" Dean whispered.

Sam considered not answering so he could go back to sleep.

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?"

Sam shrugged, knowing Dean would interpret the movement accurately. Dean shifted and Sam could tell he'd turned to look at him in the dark even though they couldn't see each other.

"Tongue hurts."

"Water?" Dean leaned over and pulled a water bottle off the table.

"Hm. Yeah, okay," Sam yawned and Dean turned the dim light on by his side. Sam blinked awake to see Dean drinking out of the water bottle before handing it over to Sam.

"Gross," Sam murmured like a reflex, not even knowing what he was saying as he took it from Dean and drank. It was room temperature but still refreshing. He drank greedily, gulping loudly and appreciating Dean didn't seem particularly solicitous about it. Normally Dean might have told him to take it easy. When Sam had to stop to catch his breath, the water bottle slipped in his hands and Dean was there in an instant making sure it didn't tip over.

"You got it?"

"Yeah," Sam promised and Dean let go. Sam shrugged. "I'm actually done," he said and handed the water bottle back. Dean took it and set it on the bedside table.

"Need anything else?"

Sam shook his head.

"Wanna go back to sleep?"

Sam sighed and looked at his brother, then shrugged. "I guess," he said softly.

"C'mon." Dean turned off the light and reclined, holding the covers up for Sam to huddle back under too. He did and sunk down against his pillow facing Dean. Dean threw an arm over Sam and Sam leaned into it, not giving a damn anymore. A few minutes passed and Dean started rubbing Sam's shoulders and Sam inched closer and turned to lie on his stomach so Dean was rubbing his back. Sam grinned, reminded of how Dean would do this when they were kids and how the repetitive motion more often put Dean to sleep faster than Sam. Sam recalled with a little bit of remorse how he'd wake Dean up just so he'd keep going. Dazed by sleep, Dean would grunt and resume the back rub for awhile before falling asleep again and starting the whole process over again.

This wouldn't be one of those times. Sam was sinking into sleep rapidly, Dean's presence and the back rub pushing him faster into unconsciousness than he'd anticipated. Half-asleep, Sam lost his inner monologue.

"Remember when we were kids'n you'd do this?"

"Wha-?" Dean asked blearily.

"When I was a kid," Sam prompted.

"Sure," Dean whispered sleepily. Sam didn't say anything for awhile but his eyes opened wider when Dean spoke up again. "You're such a sap."

"Am not."

"I almost killed you when you were little too, y'know that?" Dean asked and Sam could tell he was smiling.

"What? How?" Sam asked, somewhat appalled, and definitely more awake. Dean chuckled.

"I hated you," he joked and Sam fake-punched him, surprising Dean who gasped at the hit then returned to laughter.

"Seriously," Sam pried, curious.

Dean quieted and sighed, then gave one last soft chuckle.

"I, uh... I almost smothered you to death."

"There it is," Sam laughed and it was Dean's turn to fake-punch his little brother. "I am so not surprised..."

"Shut up, bitch."

Sam spent his laughter and realized he wanted to know more.

"How old was I?"

"Dunno. Little after Mom died," Dean offered solemnly.

"What stopped you from smothering me?"

"Dad found us and got me off you in time."

"D'you get in trouble?"

"Nah he knew I had no idea what I'd almost done. I was just as freaked out as him when I realized."

"So you weren't trying," Sam paused for comic emphasis, "to smother me?"

"No, man. You'd woken up - fussy or something - having a nightmare, maybe. I just accidentally fell asleep on you after I got you quiet."

Sam thought about that, admittedly touched. "That's... cute," Sam hedged. Dean let out a skeptical gust of air and Sam fell back to laughter.

Dean feigned another hit against Sam's shoulder. "Go to sleep."

"Promise you won't smother me."

Dean laughed. "No."

Dean was the first to wake up with no feeling in his arm and Sam's dumb sleepy face turned down against him. Breathing was coming easily to him and Dean gave himself time to relax his own post-wake haze of anxiety he was experiencing now. Too many symptoms of Sam's were turning up while they slept.

Literally rolling out of bed, he stumbled out of the bedroom, blankets trailing off him onto the floor. He had a mission. He padded through their underground home to the kitchen. Three messy scoops in the filter, a full pot of water to the reservoir, and ten minutes of just standing there blinking, listening to the coffee gurgle, appreciating its scent as it filled the cold kitchen.

"Hey," Kevin grunted, walking in while Dean was rubbing sleep out of his eye. Dean hummed in acknowledgment as he reached for three mugs, his other arm still getting over pins and needles courtesy of Sam. The coffee beeped, Kevin sat down at the kitchen table, and Dean poured. Kevin whispered a thank you and claimed one, wrapping his hands around the warmth of it as he pulled it across the table and against his chest.

Dean took his coffee black too and sipped it as he grabbed milk from the fridge, sugar from the counter to fix Sam's.

"You ready to get back to it today?" Dean asked, his voice rough with sleep.

Kevin nodded. "Started on it a little bit last night, actually," Kevin offered with a smile. Dean frowned with approval, impressed and appreciative. He poured milk and dropped sugar into Sam's coffee. Then he froze, a genuine frown this time as his eyes fixed upon Kevin.

"You're not still on the uppers I gave you, are you?"

Kevin looked up, surprised. "No. They're on Garth's boat."

Dean licked his lips on a frown and nodded. He traced around the coffee cup with his finger.

"I'm gonna go bring this to Sam," Dean muttered as he picked Sam's up, still avoiding Kevin's gaze.

"Yeah, okay," Kevin affirmed. The moment broken, Kevin walked over to the refrigerator as Dean left the kitchen.

"Kevin," Dean said, surprising him. Kevin stepped back to look beyond the door of the fridge. Dean was standing there, lips pressed together, brows furrowed, clearly about to say something serious. "I never should've given you those."

Touched, Kevin gulped and nodded. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. I'm sorry."

Something vulnerable glistened in Kevin's deep brown eyes. He swallowed and nodded to Dean, the only serious response he could give without breaking down entirely about how hard the past year has been for him.

Dean nodded back, picked the coffees up again, and left with a sad but encouraging smile.

Dean felt lighter as he walked down the hall. He hadn't even known he'd been carrying the weight of that around until just now. He also knew it'd been a good thing for Kevin to hear. Kevin hadn't been a strait-laced overachieving honors student because he took uppers. He got there because he was cared for, and Dean was somewhat familiar with how that worked. He should've thought about it like that sooner.

He turned a corner and started thinking about whether Sam would wake now with the scent of freshly brewed coffee around him. When he got there the room was still dark and he cautiously stepped inside. He carefully made his way to where he knew the nightstand was. He set the mugs down and turned the light on.

Sam reacted by shifting around, turning onto his back, grimacing and blinking up at him.

"Hey," he murmured, sitting down on the side of the bed. "Got coffee." Dean pulled the mug over to him and Sam hummed, pleased, and sat up against the headboard.

Dean took a second to assess his brother as Sam, the king of manners, actually slurped his coffee. Dean would tease him if he wasn't distracted, observing how Sam was pale and moving stiffly.

"How're you feeling?" Dean asked, taking a gulp from his own coffee.

"Not bad," Sam replied evenly. "Tongue hurts but coffee's good," he added. Dean gave a sideways smile and nodded. Sam took another sip before looking up at his brother. "So what's the game plan?"

"For today?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, moving around to sit up straighter.

Dean shrugged.

"Kevin's caffeinating in the kitchen. He'll get started on the tablet soon. Already worked on some of it last night," Dean said slowly, making sure Sam wouldn't get overwhelmed or confused with his explanation. Sam looked fine enough but he'd still had a big seizure. Recovering from that wasn't always just a single night's rest. Sam nodded in understanding though and took another sip of his coffee. Dean followed suit, staring at nothing in particular and enjoying the coffee.

"You and I get another free day, though," Dean said absently.

Sam looked up at him. Dean smirked. Sam rolled his eyes and smiled wryly.

"Joy," Sam deadpanned. Dean chuckled.

Kevin's head was pounding and his eyes tearing as he stared at the shaky yet fluidly moving patterns and sketches on the tablet in front of him. He'd had several cups of coffee. No breakfast yet. He'd been debating taking a break to go see Sam and Dean for awhile now but he hesitated. He didn't really want to intrude but then again he figured he could offer breakfast. Dean would appreciate it considering how he pushed meals on Sam every chance he got.

He rubbed his eyes and temples, leaned back in his chair and sighed long and deep. He pushed his chair out and walked out of the library into the hallway, listening for Sam and Dean as he approached their open doorway.

He heard canny audio playing that he couldn't make out overlaid with quiet snickers. Assured they were both probably in good moods, he knocked against the wall and turned in, finding the brothers looking at Sam's laptop propped up by Dean's knees. Sam was lying down comfortably and smiling up at the screen before his eyes drifted to Kevin.

"Hey," Kevin said tiredly. Dean looked up and grinned as he closed the laptop.

"Hey Kevin," Dean said, sounding fresh. Kevin muttered another 'hey' as he walked into the room, figuring the closed laptop was his invitation to come in. He sat down on the chair at Dean's desk and angled towards the bed.

"What's up?" Dean asked. "Any success?"

Kevin shrugged and shook his head.

"Not yet. Wanted a break. Thinking about breakfast."

Dean nodded at that and looked at Sam expectantly.

"You hungry?" He nudged his brother. Sam gave a brief wince and shrugged. "Cool. I'll make pancakes or something," Dean resolved pleasantly. Kevin smiled, grateful Dean volunteered to make food. His interest shifted to the laptop.

"What were you watching?"

"Stupid Youtube videos."

Kevin smiled knowingly. Even before he became a prophet he never really had the time to enjoy the useless idiocy of watching stupid videos on Youtube but it seemed like just as decent a past time as any to entertain a sick sibling.

"Obviously Dean's idea," Sam added.

"Kev, where're you working?" Dean asked lightly.

"What do you mean?"

"You in the study?"

"Yeah."

"Since this morning?" He clarified, surprised.

"Uh...yeah."

Kevin started to wonder where this was going. Sam shifted to look at his brother with just as much confusion and Dean turned to look at him for a second before returning to Kevin.

"You ever study in bed?"

"What? No," Kevin almost laughed. Sam huffed a chuckle along with him and Dean jerked back to look at his brother.

"What? You used to study in bed all the time," Dean said defensively.

"I studied on the bed. And it was only because there was never a table big enough to spread my stuff out in the motel rooms we had."

"You grew up in motel rooms?" Kevin interjected but it was ignored. Kevin stored it to think about for later.

"Got you into Stanford," Dean shrugged.

"I got me into Stanford despite having to study on beds all the time."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean waved at Sam dismissively.

"Wha- it's not whatever. You know I always preferred libraries," Sam insisted.

"Thought you liked libraries for the books, nerd, not the tables." Sam shrugged, barely concealing a smile.

"Both," Sam offered innocently. Dean rolled his eyes. Sam leaned back against the headboard. "Honestly," he started conversationally, "there's only one thing I ever really want from a bed."

Sam paused. Dean's eyebrows raised. They both spoke at the same time:

"Sleep."

"Sex."

They both visibly recoiled from each other as Kevin laughed.

Sam, disgusted, started weakly pushing Dean away towards the edge of the bed.
"Let me - ow, Sam - let me ask you this-" Dean laughed as he pretended Sam's pushes were stronger than they were. He was planning on getting out of bed to make breakfast anyway so he let Sam continue his bats and shoves to edge him off. "When God gave you a dick-"

"Get away!" Sam shouted, laughing, as Dean shielded his brother's ineffective hits. Dean managed to grab Sam's wrists and hold tight as he finished his dig.

"-were you like totally bewildered?" Dean asked, his tone mockingly genuine and serious.

Sam just grunted with frustration between his caught wrists and his brother's obnoxious insult. Dean laughed and let go of his brother's wrists. He backed off the bed just as Sam spoke up.

"We've been sharing a bed for like over a week now, Dean. That was last thing I wanted to hear," Sam said pointedly with a perfect mix of repulsion and humor. Dean flinched, his expression shifting into disdainful revulsion.

"Oh ew," Dean backed away, looking at Sam, "you're nasty, you know that?"

Sam's eyes widened with indignation.

"I'm nasty?! You-"

"No, you took it there-" Dean pointed at Sam as he started moving towards the door.

"You did!"

"No," Dean replied glibly.

"I-"

"Shut up I'm making you pancakes," Dean yelled back just as he left the room, getting the last word.

Sam huffed and folded his arms. He looked at Kevin, still sitting with his coffee and smiling, having been suitably entertained by that exchange.

"I didn't take it there," Sam said lowly. Kevin grinned and shrugged, unwilling to take sides. Sam sighed with annoyance again and looked around the bed. He grabbed the laptop and pulled it up.

"You wanna watch the videos Dean and I were looking at?"

Kevin's eyes lit up.

"Yeah."

"C'mere."

Kevin felt kinda awkward but he figured Sam's permission granted him protection if Dean were to call him out on being in his bed, taking his side of the bed. He sat down next to Sam rigidly, sitting up straight against the headboard, arms and legs kept as close to himself as possible. He relaxed as Sam didn't do or say anything except open the computer and navigate to the site's browsing section. Thumbnails and titles popped up and Sam scrolled through them slowly.

"What do you think looks good?" Sam asked quietly, sounding like he was just voicing a question he'd been thinking. Kevin felt okay to lean closer against Sam to look at the links.

"What about that one?" Kevin suggested, pointing at it.

"Sure," Sam replied, clicking without hesitation.

They continued to play around on the site and eventually the smell of pancakes wafted through to the bedroom. Sam mentioned that it smelled good and Kevin agreed as he glanced at his watch. They'd been at it almost an hour and it dawned on him that while Sam had been navigating the site, he'd still been letting Kevin choose all the videos they'd been watching. That said, just one look at Sam assured him that he'd been having fun.

When Sam asked Kevin to go check if the pancakes were ready, Kevin hopped off the bed, surprisingly happy and ready to help, and went in search of Dean. As he followed the scent of breakfast to the kitchen, Kevin wasn't a hundred percent sure what had just happened but he felt like maybe that was what it felt like to get to hang out with a cool older brother.

Sam slowly awoke to the sounds of his brother eating beside him.

"What're you doing?" Sam mumbled.

"Eating a sandwich. Want a bite?" Dean offered and Sam opened his eyes to the sight of a sandwich packed with what looked like ten different ingredients. Sam recoiled as it loomed directly in front of his face.

"Jesus..."

"No, Kevin made it," Dean replied, not missing a beat, and pulled away so he could take another bite. Sam huffed and pushed the covers off his chest, gazing blearily around the room and back to Dean. Dean had the laptop out, clicking through what looked like news articles.

"Working?"

"Actually," Dean took a huge bite. He found no qualms with continuing his sentence though: "I'm just reading the news."

"Wow."

"I know," Dean replied sardonically.

Sam didn't push it. He just worked on gathering his wits, maybe trying to come up with something to do now that he was awake again.

"How's Kevin?"

Dean shrugged.

"Truckin' along."

Sam shifted around again, pulling more covers off as he sat up against the headboard. Dean glanced over, then noticed the blankets.

"You hot?"

Sam shrugged and shook his head. "No, I'm fine," Sam said honestly.

"How's your mouth?"

"Tongue's still sore."

"What about the rest of you?" Dean asked, referring to whether or not Sam's body or limbs had gotten slammed during the seizure. The kitchen floor wasn't exactly cushioned after all.

"Bruised probably; nothing I can't handle."

Dean looked him over critically and finally nodded, turning back to the computer. After a few moments Dean spoke up again. "Feel like doing anything?" Dean asked, still looking at the computer screen. Sam stretched, noticed his painfully sore back and shoulder, and considered the question.

"Dunno," Sam replied dully. "Maybe a shower."

Dean sighed and closing the computer. He seemed relaxed though and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Bath. You had a seizure," Dean pointed out lazily as he chewed. Sam was past embarrassment and nodded.

"Fair enough."

"Yeah?" Dean sounded surprised and Sam shrugged. "Cool. Found a crossword puzzle we can do."

"You hate crossword puzzles."

"I do," Dean nodded as he started to get up. Sam took it as his cue to sit up all the way as well. Dean came around to his side of the bed to spot him. "Seriously though crossword puzzles find the worst ways to describe one word- y'okay?" Dean suddenly crouched as Sam almost stumbled while rising to stand. He grabbed Sam's elbow for balance.

"Yeah yeah I'm fine-" Sam assured, getting his bearings back.

"Cool. But yeah crossword puzzles describe porches as shit like 'screened-in minihouses,'" Dean complained, cautiously letting his brother go as Sam took a couple steps. He was a little unbalanced but nothing worrisome.

"I remember that crossword," he said, recalling Dean at sixteen in the passenger seat turning around to tell Sam his crossword puzzles were stupid. Sam, ever the precocious child, had claimed that Dean was in fact the stupid one. "You thought it was 'shack,'" Sam bantered back. He shuffled towards the door. He winced imperceptibly, a sharp sound ringing out through his ears then disappearing.

"It should've been shack!" Dean argued, his frustration from over fifteen years ago reigniting easily, much to Sam's amusement. Hearing Dean go grumpy over inconsequential things would never fail to be funny for Sam.

"Shacks aren't screened-in," Sam pointed out, playful, just as he started walking into the hallway. Dean made a psh sound behind him. Sam smiled even as he pressed his fingers against his ears, another random throb of pain flashing through then vanishing again.

"You're not... screened-in..." Dean grumbled, nudging Sam's shoulder lightly. The pain gone, Sam let go of his head and chuckled as he staggered slowly towards the bathroom, his balance slightly off now. Sam wondered what this was, annoyed. Tinnitus wouldn't make sense. He hadn't suffered any injuries that'd cause something like that. Sam convinced himself to write it off as a fluke. Everyone got weird aches and pains every once in awhile.

"Good one, Dea- oh wait did you get my clothes?"

Dean nodded and gestured for Sam to keep going. "Yeah I'll get 'em while you wash up," Dean replied, still walking a half-step behind Sam to spot him as they made their way to the bathroom.

"Okay," Sam said. His body was just sore, Sam rationalized. Another swift throbbing pain ran through him then disappeared. He glanced at his brother and had to admit he didn't really mind Dean's hovering. Also, Dean was watching him so closely and still hadn't noticed Sam's reactions to these weird fleeting pains so that made Sam feel better. If he could successfully hide it from Dean then it couldn't be a big deal. And it didn't feel like he'd collapse any time soon.

The ringing phased back in and this time it didn't stop; the volume of it increased. Sam couldn't smother it anymore. He gasped and clutched his head as he stumbled forward, hunching over to brace himself better under the onslaught of noise and the wavering floor. He heard Dean shout his name but it sounded too far away, like Dean was on the other end of a tunnel. It got worse until it was like a megaphone siren blaring into his ears. Sam couldn't think, the tone drilling into him, reverberating down through his whole body, threatening to knock him out altogether.

Sam vaguely felt arms wrap around him, his brother hefting him backwards against his chest, and Sam let himself crumple in pain, nearly in tears from the shrill intense ringing that only seemed to be getting louder and more insistent as it pierced into him.

Sam barely registered the slow sinking journey to the floor with his brother before he blacked out entirely.

A/N: Originally published 5/30/2014, revised 8/17/2019. Thank you so much for reading & please please comment/review if you can spare the time! xoxo Alex