Two stories in one night, how lucky are you guys.

It was one of those times when both of them were tired, stressed, and pissed at the world. They'd both been in bad moods for going on two weeks, and the fact that Sam was having migraines again was not something he wanted to bring up with his brother right now. It would only stress Dean out more, and honestly, Sam didn't want Dean telling him to suck it up and deal with his headaches. Dean couldn't always grasp the fact that the headaches sometimes brought him to his knees. Most of the time he could hide it, when they got bad, he could lay face down on the bed and let Dean assume he was trying to sleep or was in one of his 'emo moods.'

It was a particularly bad one that night, and Sam was grateful that Dean had gone out to a bar in hopes of getting laid, or at least drinking some stress away. He was actually hoping that Dean would get laid, it would mean he'd be in a better mood for a few days. He felt the headache start coming on, and popped three Excedrin to try and counter it. Of course, that didn't really work. Once the migraine started, there usually wasn't anything he could do to avert it.

He kept all the lights off and tried to block out any sound as his headache slowly increased in intensity, pounding out ceaselessly behind his closed eyes. After what seemed like hours, but could've been minutes for all he knew, he felt the churning of his stomach getting worse. Not bothering to open his eyes, he stumbled in the general direction of the bathroom, feeling along the wall. He felt around until he reached the toilet and made sure the lid was up before sliding down the wall next to it. Puking all over the lid of the toilet was definitely not a mess he wanted to have to clean up. Leaning forward, he pressed his head against the cool porcelain, trying to alleviate his headache and will his dinner to stay down at the same time. He really hated throwing up.

For a while, it seemed like the nausea would pass. The throbbing continued, and at this point, he had stopped trying to fight it and just settled in for the ride. He was already shaking slightly, but the shivers started to grow more intense. His mouth felt dry and fuzzy, and he knew he was going to be sick. Miserably, he lifted his head up and sat up in front of the bowl, giving himself over to the heaves. Sweat made his hair stick to his forehead, and when his stomach decided to give him a break, and rested his head on the rim again and sighed in defeat. He hadn't felt this alone since his freshman year at Stanford, before he had met Jess.

Three bouts of puking later, Sam could feel the headache start to taper off. Flushing the toilet, he stood up and fumbled around for the mouthwash. After rinsing his mouth, he stumbled over to the bed and collapsed on it. His head was still pounding, but not nearly as bad as before. Now there was a chance it would let him sleep, and hopefully it would be better in the morning.

The clock read 3:27 am when Dean stumbled through the door, moving quietly as so not to wake his sleeping little brother. Sam, however, was still awake, on the edges of sleep. He waited until Dean collapsed on his bed to whisper, "So?"

He could practically hear Dean grinning. "Brunette, nice rack, great in bed. She was a dream, man. It was awesome."

Sam laughed quietly. "Sounds fun," he murmured sleepily. He heard Dean shift in the bed, getting himself into one of the weird positions he slept in. "Night, Sammy."

"Night, Dean."

The last two thoughts that entered Sam's mind before he slipped into dreamland were that the tension that was always in the room lately if Sam and Dean were both there was gone, as was his headache.