This one really ran away with me... Spoilery for S2 (esp. Simon Says). Again, enjoy!

Oh, and because I forgot it before - no, they don't belong to me, and I don't earn any money for doing this.

Nutritious

They'd arrived in the new motel around midnight, having put as much distance between themselves and the memories of the last job as they could before Dean was finally forced to admit he was about to fall asleep at the wheel.

Unwilling, unable, to talk about it, both brothers were replaying moments over and over in their heads. Dean felt the cold muzzle of the rifle pressing into his chin, his own finger starting to push down on the trigger. Sam saw the look in Andy's eyes as he held the smoking gun, his own brother who he'd never had the chance to know lying dead at his feet.

They'd barely spoken all of that day, after a moment of mutual acknowledgement of how things were spinning out of control before driving away from the dam.

Sam might not have known the depths of what Dean was feeling, the knowledge he was carrying that made their conversation about Andy weigh so heavily on his mind, his heart. But he did know that his older brother was more worried than he would voluntarily let Sam know – he'd heard that confession, and no matter how immature Dean might want to be, he couldn't call a do-over on that one.

So Sam knew Dean was feeling terrible, would be for a long time to come – which was why he appreciated the gesture so much more when Dean dumped his bags on the bed nearest the door and gestured for Sam to use the shower first. It was a completely insignificant thing, but the type that somehow seemed to mean so much.

"You sure, man?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, go on. Just don't stink the bathroom up with your nancy-boy shampoo..." came the tired reply. A slight quirk of the lips from each brother at falling back into the familiar routine of meaningless insults, a sign of starting to move on.

Dean was already softly snoring into his pillow as Sam emerged from the shower. Sam knew he'd be dead to the world for about 12 hours – was envious of his brother's ability to switch off like that. He lay down on his own bed, silently deciding his plan for the next morning. He set his cellphone alarm and shoved the device under his pillow to avoid it waking Dean.

xxxxx

Dean lay for a few moments before forcing his heavy eyelids open, reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed and face the reality of a new day. As he finally accepted the inevitable and let himself fully wake up, there was a moment of panic as he saw the other bed empty. "Sammy...?" His voice came out quiet, rasped slightly in his throat, the last vestiges of sleep still lingering.

"Hey man. Afternoon!" The altogether too cheery voice came from the other side of the room. Dean slowly turned over, saw his brother sitting in a chair by the window, laptop open on his knees. "You're awake? Can I open the curtains up now?"

"Yeah, sure, why not." The thin curtain was swiftly pulled back from the window and Dean brought his arm up to his eyes for a second, groaning in protest against the piercing sunlight that suddenly flooded the room. "So – you weren't kidding when you said afternoon, huh? Dude, why didn't you wake me?"

"Because I'm an awesome brother," shot back Sam with a smirk.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Man, I'm starving. You been out yet? Anywhere to get some food?"

"Well, erm, yeah," came the slightly tentative reply from the chair. "But you don't have to bother going out if you don't want to. I kind of bought you something – you know, if you want it. Don't have to eat it." He ended up mumbling, pointing to a bag on the small desk in the corner of the room. Dean shot him a questioning look, but when it was clear Sam was done talking for now, he reached out and grabbed the bag.

"Hey, this smells pretty good..." Dean ripped quickly into the bag, finding a couple of covered plates that did, in fact, smell pretty damn good.

Sam raised his eyes and watched as Dean uncovered the plates. "Yeah, I found this little place that just does all this home-cooked food and just thought, you know..."

Dean stared at the steaming roast chicken dinner and the mouth-watering apple pie for a second, wondering what the hell he'd done to deserve it. He looked up at Sam, who was clearly relishing the effect of his surprise. There was a moment of silence as one glance conveyed all the mutual gratitude it needed to, a flash of memory, of casually spoken words that had somehow been remembered even after all the madness – Just once, I'd like to eat something I didn't have to microwave in a mini-mart. A moment to appreciate just being brothers.

Then Dean cleared his throat and turned eagerly back to the piles of food in front of him. "You're just glad I'm so hungry, dude, or I'd seriously have something to say about all this healthy crap on these plates..."