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It was a sluggish and quiet day in the bunker. Sam was walking around on tip toes, as to not alert Dean in any way. He was coughing up blood because of the trials, and he just soaked a towel with his blood in his room. He needed some water, and didn't want to be bothered.
Sam quietly walked past Dean's room towards the kitchen. He'd rather not let his brother know that he's awake. He hung his head and let his inner child out and didn't step on any cracks in the hardwood floor. When he reached the tile of the kitchen, he heard a familiar, "Hiya Sammy!" that made him stop in his tracks. He looked up to see Dean sitting on the counter eating what looked like a tuna sandwich.
"Uh, hey. Tuna?" Sam replied as he reached into the fridge for a bottle of water.
"Yah. Know why I'm eating tuna?" Dean looked at him with a fierce look.
"….why are you eating tuna?" Sam asked, confused as he drank his glass of water.
"Because you didn't get any PIE yesterday." Dean said, a bit angry.
Sam scoffed, "Even if I bought pie, it would have been gone by last night."
"….so? I could have been happy for about 30 minutes." Dean said sadly
Sam scoffed at him, "No, when you're 50 and don't have Diabetes from all of the pie, you'll thank me."
Dean looked at him in the eye, "We both know I'm not living to see 50."
Sam pressed his lips into a thin line. It was a sad and bitter truth that came with the hunting life. The more Sam thought about it, the hunting life is a bit like Tequila. It's bitter, always gross, and if there's a worm around, it just means trouble. Sam smiled at his lame analogy as he began to cut up some fruit.
Dean slid off of the counter and opened the cabinet next to Sam and pulled out a new bottle of Jack Daniels. He honestly hoped Dean would have a hay day and get drunk. A more carefree Dean that wouldn't notice the coughing little brother is a better option. Dean grabbed the bottle of Jack and a glass and walked on out of the kitchen with a skip in his step. He snickered at how happy Dean was for a change.
Yep, Dean was getting plastered… And will probably need a liver transplant tomorrow.
Sam finished slicing his fruit and poured them all into the blender. Whatever these trials were doing to him, he needed to try and make up for by being healthy. He didn't feel like eating, and hasn't had an appetite all week, but he didn't need Dean bringing him another bowl of "John Winchester's Cure All" soup. Shit's nasty.
Sam poured his smoothie into a cup with a straw and turned around and nearly ran into Cas.
"The f- Hey! Cas! How ar-" Sam stumbled and leaned back against the counter until Cas cut him off.
"Where's Dean?" Cas demanded.
"Uh. He just walked out that way. He might b-" Sam started to explain, but he looked up and Cas disappeared. Sam threw up his free hand and rolled his eyes.
"Angels. Dicks." Sam thought to himself. Wait, can angels read thoughts? I sure hope not. Sam shrugged his shoulders and figured that he should stockpile on food and drinks and whatnot so he doesn't have to leave his room and possibly let Dean see how bad his health is getting. He made himself a few sandwiches and grabbed a bag of those veggie chips he has wanted to try. He almost walked out and turned around for a few bottles of water. He dropped the bag of chips as he ran into a particular angel wearing a khaki trench coat.
"Cas! Stop sneaking up on me!" Sam squeaked out.
Cas picked up the chips and looked at them, "What is the point of vegetables in potato chip form when they are not potatoes? Sam, you would get far better nutrition from other methods of preparing vegetables."
Sam rolled his eyes and snatched the chips from the judgmental angel, "Yeah. I'm aware, I just wanted to try them."
Cas looked at them disapprovingly, "I can't imagine they taste good. Where is Dean?"
Sam felt a bit disappointed, he could see where his priorities lie, "Try his room."
Just like that, Cas was gone. Sam rolled his eyes again.
Sam gathered up his mini picnic and headed back to his room. He placed everything inside of his mini fridge except a sandwich and his smoothie. He sat at his desk and began to examine the Men of Letters files he found that piqued his interest. He sat there in a peaceful silence with the occasional sound of Sam chewing or slurping his smoothie mixed with the turning of pages. It was that kind of peaceful silence. Every now and then he'd find a new spot in his room to sit and get comfortable. This, this was his small slice of peace and tranquility in the hurricane he was thrown into. This was the eye of the storm for our dear Sammy.
However, if you've ever experienced a hurricane, the eye usually passes over quite quickly. Sam's ended when he heard Cas' loud scream.
Sam jumped up and snatched his pistol off of his nightstand and dashed out of the door. He sprinted down the hallway in nothing but pajamas and realized the scream came from Dean's room. He hesitated before opening the door, cocking the gun, ready to fire. He kicked the door open.
"Stop it, Dean. You're drunk." Cas was red like a tomato, and Dean was on top of him.
Sam took a step in and lowered his gun. Neither Cas or Dean turned to look at him when he kicked the door in. That's when it happened, Sam realized what the scream was.
"I likeit wheni'mdrunk. Yoo do toooo." Dean slurred as he leaned down and kissed Cas right on the lips. Cas responded by pulling Dean closer to him and lacing his fingers in his hair as he kissed him back! It almost didn't seem foreign to these two.
"Oh god." Sam whispered as he shut the door and retreated back to his room.
He quietly and slowly placed the pistol back on his nightstand and curled back up in the corner of his room and read over the files trying to forget what he saw. But no matter what he did, he just saw those two. He is happy for Dean, but is that really the way he had to find out they were dating… or whatever? He popped open the bag of veggie chips and tossed a few in his mouth. He immediately regretted it and tossed the bag aside and slouched his shoulders and sighed heavily in desperation. He dove back into his research for a while until he started hearing noises from down the hall.
"Dammit, Dean" Sam whispered to himself.