I own nothing. And I'm sorry for all the grammar/spelling mistakes.

Enjoy.

Dean snores. It's light, kinda quiet but still totally snoring.

Sam snorts.

Dean snores like a chick.

But at least he's not whimpering. At least he's not moaning. At least he's not murmuring. At least he's not howling. At least he's not wailing. At least he's not fuckin' weeping.

-:-

Dean's lying still.

Sam turns on his back to look at the shadows that stretch across the ceiling.

Dean's lying like he's dead.

But at least he's not twitching. At least he's not shaking. At least he's not turning and twisting around in the bed. At least he's not shivering. At least he's not fuckin' convulsing.

-:-

Dean breathes. Slowly. In and out through parted lips.

Sam presses his head into the pillow and pretends that the air doesn't taste like Hell.

-:-

A truck passes by and Sam's heart stops. He turns towards Dean but Dean's still sleeping.

Small miracles, but they don't allow Sam to rest, because he can see Dean's eyes moving rapidly under thin eyelids.

"Dean?" he whispers.

Nothing.

"Dean."

Nothing.

And then it starts; a whimper, a moan, a murmur of a word that means too much in the stillness of the night... a twitch of his fingers, a full-body shudder...

"Dean!"

A sob.

Sam knows how that is. That's why he doesn't sleep.

The End.