Takes place a few days after Southern Comfort, does not involve A Little Slice of Kevin

"No, man, I'm serious. Somethin' isn't sitting right," Dean said with a grimace, one arm draped over his thighs while the other pushed on his stomach.

Sam stood from his place at the table, closing his laptop in the process. "Maybe it was from that third burger you ate." He turned away to hide his smile as he walked past the motel bed Dean was on.

The older brother gave a quick smile, shifting to ease the sharp cramps. "Hey, a man's gotta eat."

Sam opened the small bar fridge and pulled out two beers with one hand. "Yeah, eat. Not feast." He walked back to Dean and extended the beer but when Dean shook his head, Sam's smile lessened.

"What's wrong with a little feasting, huh? The ghost is dead, I'm good, you're good, Garth's good - last we heard… why not celebrate, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said, his jaw clenching repeatedly. The uneasiness between them hadn't lifted at all since the conversation by the Impala the other night and Sam knew Dean hadn't forgotten. "Sure."

Dean continued keeping pressure on the growing pain in his abdomen, the low ache becoming harder to ignore. Sam set Dean's beer on the small dresser between the two beds and returned to his seat at the table, this time referring to their father's journal for information. It sometimes surprised Dean that they didn't have that thing memorized word for word by now.

The minutes passed slowly and the only sounds he heard were Sam rubbing the pages between his fingers before flipping them and his own heart beat. The throbbing organ slammed roughly against his ribs, each beat acting as a metronome. He decided that maybe going outside would help instead of sitting in the stuffy motel room. Besides, the 60's theme was making him a little dizzy.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, looking over his shoulder when Dean stood, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Just gonna get some fresh air."

He stepped toward the door but immediately stopped when a strong cramp gripped his abdomen. Starting to lose his balance, he reached for the bed but instead caught Sam as Sam jumped to his side. Dean's hand rolled into a fist around his brother's sleeve and he gasped. "Hey, hey, Dean, it's okay, here," Sam directed as he half pulled Dean back to the bed and laid him down. Dean rolled onto his side, arms wrapping around his midsection as he groaned. Sam hand pushed over his hair as his worried eyes washed over Dean. He turned and grabbed Dean's keys from the table, stuffed them into his pocket, and knelt beside Dean. "Dean, I'm taking you to the hospital."

"N-no," Dean replied through gritted teeth, his jaw tight. "It's alright, Sammy, I'm fine, it's just -"

Sam didn't give Dean time to make excuses. He grabbed Dean's arm, hefted it over his shoulders and stood, his other arm securing Dean by his side. Dean let out a curse under his breath when they stood, the stretch obviously causing him more discomfort. Sam felt Dean's sweat against him and he moved as quickly as he could to the door and then the car, his concern deepening. Dean's breath caught when Sam opened the car door and helped him in, a wave of nausea accompanying the sharp, squeezing pain.

"It's alright, Dean, just stay awake, alright?" Sam asked as rounded the back of the car and slid into the driver's seat. He shoved the keys into the ignition and hammered the gas nearly to the floor. The tires squealed loudly, either in protest or pleasure. He glanced at Dean, his brother's eyes intentionally wide to keep from passing out. Sam had ignored Dean's comments about not feeling good after eating dinner nearly three hours ago, chocking it up to him being overly full from his overly portioned food. But this was different.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean asked quietly, his forehead resting against the cool window.

"Yeah?" Sam looked at him.

"Are you… seriously going speed limit right now?"

Sam's eyes dipped to the speedometer and his lips curved. "Not even close."

Dean nodded once, his breath fogging the portion of glass around his mouth. "Good."