Smile, The Worst is Yet to Come

Part 3

The face peering down at him in a state of study shocked Sam, making him jump. It wasn't exactly everyday that you awoke to find someone simply peering at you as though you were dead. His brother pulled back slightly but still scanned his face.

"You were coughing like you wanted to get rid of your throat." Distantly, he muttered his green eyes stared into Sam's skin as though it held the secret to eternal life. Although, Sam considered, if this is what eternal life feels like then I don't want it.

"What're-" He stopped to cough as his voice rasped painfully. He was parched, "How long was I asleep?"

Looking suspicious, Dean grumbled, "12 hours."

"What?! How is that possible?!"

The older shrugged, "I dunno. At one point, I thought you were dead. You went all quiet and I didn't think you were breathing." There was a moment of silence, "But you were." He said as though he had to reassure.

"Good, I'm glad." Sam replied all snarky as he forced himself to his feet. He could still feel the tiredness weighing on his shoulders despite basically sleeping for the last 24 hours.

It was bright downstairs, making Sam squint against the light. He automatically set a path for the couch but Dean caught him and instead diverted him into the kitchen. Pushing his brother into one of the wooden chairs, Dean began creating some sort of breakfast as he spoke about something but nobody was listening.

Sam, on the other hand, was pushing his palm against his chest to see if it increased the pain or if the pain was too internal to be affected by the pressure. Upon testing, he discovered that it did become more painful but only by a fraction. Not enough to really make a sound judgement on.

"Sam?" The voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He jumped, quickly moving his hand from his chest and whipping his head around to find who had addressed him. Dean stood with a puzzled expression upon his features. A frying pan with eggs inside was held above the cooker as the elder stared with a frown.

"You okay?" Concern colored the shorter man's tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam waved his concern off with a smile.

"If you're sure..." Dean muttered. He got no reply so simply served up the eggs and dumped them on a plate in front of Sam.

"Here, you must be starving."

"Thanks, De." A smile pulled at his mouth as he poked at the eggs slightly.

Rolling his eyes, Dean grabbed some ketchup from the fridge and deposited on the table beside Sam's plate with a knowing smile. The only way you could make Sam eat practically anything is to slather it in tomato ketchup. The man loved the stuff despite always complaining about its high sugar and salt content.

Pouring some on the side of his plate, Sam happily dunked his egg whites into the red before doing the same with the sunny yoke.

After his late breakfast, Sam retired to the couch where he spent the rest of the day watching daytime TV with his chin rested on his raised knees. Meanwhile, Dean worked on cars out the back to occupy his attention.

----
It was a few days and a bit later when Bobby Singer was creeping back into his own home at 3am. He crept to avoid waking the boys since he knew they were still taking shelter in his house and everyone knew that an exhausted Winchester was a miserable Winchester.

With gentle footsteps, he made his way into the kitchen. The old man jumped upon making out a shape on the couch through the darkness. It took him a minute to identify the shape as Sam's giant frame curled up on the too small sofa with his arms wrapped around his torso. A bark of a cough broke from the large man's throat. It was loud enough to echo through the house. Despite this, Sam slept through the noise his own body was creating.