I like to think I'm a decent writer, but apparently I'm a horrible reader. I didn't see the prompt for Supernoodle's birthday. There's nothing better than spreading it out as much as you can, so here is a dreadfully late drabble in honor of Supernoodle's birthday! Hope it was a good one! Hurt Dean, coming up! I even gave you 43 extra words!

This is a tag to 5.1 Sympathy for the Devil. And to make up for my dark drabbles, this one is more fun. I'm not sure if I do fun well, so please let me know what you think.

Colors of Love

Dean didn't remember fainting, only sunlight shearing into vivid colors, then Sam's worried face, haloed in light.

He didn't have good memories of Sam hovering, and arched away, feeling phantom hands on his neck, the tinkling of broken glass.

"Easy, don't sit up. You passed out."

He felt murky, slow, and couldn't fight when Sam lifted. Time sped up. Colors blurred. He didn't realize how much he hurt until he placed on a bed, pressure igniting senses. He twisted, pressing his nose to sour sheets. He slapped at large hands, lashed out at his devil-freeing brother. It took sloppy punches for Sam to finally leave.

Dean ached, vomited, unable to move.

When he opened his eyes again, Sam was back, clutching a ridiculous bouquet of flowers.

Red roses. Pink gerberas. Yellow button-mums. Purple spray.

Dean laughed so hard he nearly fainted again.