Disclaimer: They belong to Kripke and Crew.
This short one-shot takes place after the events of 5.05, Fallen Idols. Any mistakes are mine.
Sam shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.
But the mattress was lumpy, the pillows were lumpy—even placed on top of each other—and the sheets were a little itchy.
None of that really mattered though, not really.
The room was dark, only the moon-filled night filtered through the thin curtains of another motel room.
It had been three weeks since Sam had rejoined Dean. Sam had driven all day, not stopping until it began to darken outside. They had fallen onto their beds not long after. Sleep seemed to grasp Dean quickly, leaving Sam behind and alone with his thoughts.
It had been a strange hunt, which said a lot about their lives, Sam supposed. But a lot had been put out in the open and Sam felt like his foot had finally touched base with solid ground again. Solid ground where he and Dean met at the equilibrium point. It wasn't perfect, but it felt good. Felt right.
Sam turned onto his back, his left side, his stomach. Sleep just wouldn't find him. He heard Dean's even breaths from the bed next to him, comforting, but refused to turn to his right.
He knew the only sight that would greet him was his brother's back.
For most of the last month, Dean had been sleeping with his back to Sam, face angled towards the door. While Sam didn't know if it was done on purpose or not, it never stopped the slight hurt he felt over it.
Getting frustrated with all the different sleeping positions he'd tried, Sam reluctantly turned away from the ceiling, fisted his lumpy pillows, and rolled onto his right side.
His breath caught at the sight greeting him.
Dean, face half-buried in the pillow, mouth slightly parted in sleep, was facing Sam.
Sam watched his brother quietly as Dean's hand twitched and moved beneath his pillow.
"Sam?" Dean's low, groggy voice startled him.
Sam eyed his brother, shifted closer to the edge of the bed, but didn't say anything.
"I c'n hear y'thinking." Dean's eyes stayed closed, voice already fading in sleep. "Go t'sleep." Dean sighed softly and just like that he was asleep again.
Sam shook his head and smiled tiredly.
"G'night, Dean." The older hunter didn't answer, chest rising and falling evenly.
Sam settled onto his right side, his head mashing into the pillow, suddenly comfortable. He glanced at the door and then at Dean again before finally letting sleep drag him under.
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