Happy birthday Musica Diabolos. Hope you like.

The puke splatters on the grimy, cold tile floor as Sam wavers then falls to his knees. He grabs the sides of the toilet with snow-white knuckles and leans over.

A mix of sweat and tears slowly drips down his chin as he gags into the grey porcelain bowl.

Dean shields the smell with his hand over his nose, realizes it's no use.

He places his hand on his brother's heaving shoulder, words not coming as easily as they usually do.

The pain Sam feels is unbearable.

It's something Dean can't fix right now.

He may never be able to.