I am sorry for not updating for two weeks. I'm currently overseas and I've been really busy. So sorry. I now promise you at least one more chapter after this one, cause this one's short.

I don't own the Winchesters (doesn't mean I wouldn't like to!)

Sam woke up late the next day. He had a major headache from the beer the brothers had celebrated with last night. He sat up, but regretted it immediately as a wave of nausea come over him. He rushed to the bathroom and spent the next ten minutes with his head in the toilet bowl.

He rinsed his mouth and then went to the kitchen to make some coffee. He was about to ask Dean if he wanted any when he realized his brother's bed was empty. "Dean?" he called. Not again. No, calm down, Sam. Dean's a big boy. The Impala's gone, so he probably went to get some breakfast. Although he wasn't completely convinced, Sam tried to relax a little and enjoy his drink.

He savored each sip of it until he reached the bottom of the mug. He thought it was strange that Dean hadn't waited for him to get breakfast. He found it even stranger that the older hunter had woken up earlier than he had.

Sam tried to shake the feeling and went to refill his drink. What is something's got him? Like another demon wanting revenge? He managed to ignore it for about half an hour, but his fears eventually got the best of him. He called his brother's mobile.

It took a few tries, but eventually his brother picked up his phone. "Wait a minute, baby. I've gotta take this. Hello?" Dean sounded happy. A bit too happy for Sam's liking, but he tried to ignore it.

"Um, where are you? I've been worried sick." He could hear some faint giggling coming from wherever Dean was.

"Chill, dude. I'm at the beach."

Sam looked out the window at the grey sky. "At ten in the morning? In the middle of October? Since when do you like the beach anyway?"

But suddenly everything made sense to Sam. The reason why Dean was nervous (or maybe he was excited) when Mazomanie had been mentioned. The reason why he was so eager to take the case. The reason he had wanted to hang around after the case was finished. He knew that at that moment, Dean was fulfilling a life-long dream. "You're not…are you?"

"If you are thinking that I'm at the only legal nude beach in Wisconsin, then you are spot on."

Sam let out a groan. "That is sick. I mean like really sick. Just come back soon, OK?"

"What's that? Oh, I gotta go. Drizelle wants to go for a swim."

Sam tried to shake a sick mental image as the line disconnected. He would never understand his brother and his sick habits…

Sam decided that while he waited for his Dean's return, he would go and get some breakfast. He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the motel when he remembered that Dean had the car. But Sam didn't let this stop him. He thought the fresh air would help him clear his mind.

Since Sam had absolutely no idea where anything was, he figured he'd wander around a little. It wasn't long before he had reached a small, slightly shabby diner. A bell dinged as he opened the door and went inside.

The already freezing temperature seemed to drop by two degrees as he was greeted by a teenaged, sour-faced waitress wearing headphones. "What do you want?" she asked him just as he closed the door.

"Um…I just walked in-" Sam began.

"Coffee? Tea? Orange juice?"

"Coffee please, but can I just sit-"

"Pancakes? Eggs? Waffles?" she asked, ignoring his question. "I'll get you pancakes." She walked round the back if the counter and shouted into the kitchen. "Hey, Tom! Three stack of pancakes!"

"We don't serve potatoes!"

Sam laughed as a rather old man stuck his head out the kitchen door with a confused expression on his face.

"I said pancakes, you idiot! Pan-cakes!" she said, emphasizing the words clearly. "Is your stupid hearing aid off again…"

Sam decided to stop eavesdropping on their conversation and sat down in a booth next to the window. The place was completely empty apart from him, and he was glad that it was silent…that is, except for the argument going on kitchen.

He thought about what had happened the previous afternoon, feeling slightly sick when he thought about how close he had come to shooting Becca. What's wrong with me? He though desperately. I never used to be like this.

Suddenly Dean's voice entered Sam's mind, his tone gruff yet loving. 'Dammit, Sammy, there is nothing wrong with you. You are exactly the same as you've always been: a delicate, caring little flower. Not a killer. *sigh*…I'm sorry. You're a delicate, caring, abnormally humongous flower. And as long as I'm around, you're gonna stay that way.'

Sam decided that if his brother did actually ever call him a flower, he'd take a swing or two. Dean seems to be the only constant thing in my life and I'm gonna lose him. Sam felt tears come to his eyes, and when he heard something, he looked up.

It was the waitress. She was holding his pancakes and coffee with an uncomfortable look on her face. "Um…enjoy your breakfast." She said, putting down his food so quickly that half of the coffee slopped out of the mug. She then hurried back to the kitchen, wondering why they didn't tell you how to deal with crying customers in training.

Sam mopped up his spilled drink with a few napkins and looked at the meal in front of him. The pancakes looked barely cooked and were smothered in so much maple syrup that they had the texture of wet paper. He went for his drink and if he didn't know what he had ordered, he would have said it was just hot water. He slid the meal away when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

"Hello?" he answered, hoping that it was someone with good news. He had had a crappy morning.

"Where are you?" Dean's voice asked. It was filled with anger and frustration.

"I'm having some breakfast. Did Drizelle ditch you?" Sam snickered.

"Maybe…it turns out that the beach is for nudists only. Anyway, I'll come join you."

"There's no point. The food's absolute crap." The waitress overheard and threw him a dirty look. Sam shrugged apologetically at her and continued talking to his brother. "I'll meet you back at the motel in ten minutes."

"OK, I'll be here."

The waitress marched over to Sam and slapped down a piece of paper. "I assume you want your bill now?"

"Yeah, thanks." Sam pulled out his wallet and handed over some money.

"I only get minimum wage," the waitress hinted, holding out her hand for a tip.

Sam gave her a few coins and exited the café before she could demand anything else.

I'm not too sure where the cranky waitress came from. I figured I'd add a little humour...Oh, and I had NO idea about that beach when I chose the location. I Googled small towns and Mazomanie just happened to have something that would encourage Dean to go to it ;)