He entered the kitchen the next morning unable to look at his brother- not for the first time- as he fought to keep his eyes from watering.
"Hey Sammy, you look like hell. Did you get any sleep last night?"
Dean sounded a bit too cheery and that rubbed Sam wrong.
"No, not really..." He grunted as he yanked a beer from the fridge and started for the living room instead of staying in the same room as the man that was breaking his heart and didn't even know it.
"Beer, Sam? Isn't it a bit early for that?"
"You wanna be the pot, or the kettle?" He grumbled snappishly as he trudged away.