[Sam, Dean has always known, is one hell of an overachiever. Honestly, thinking himself in circles should be an Olympic sport and Sam would lead the geeksquad to gold on that alone. Maybe he'll write a letter, he thinks, which is his way of coping with the same exact things Sam is trying to outrun. One of them is drunk already which means Dean can't be, not right now, so he just thinks really, really stupid things to try and fill the space and keep the rest out.

Thinking only gets him into trouble.

Dean steps into the hotel room and closes the door relatively quietly behind him, makes sure it's locked, because yes of course taking care of his hungover kid brother is hardwired into his DNA, what kind of a speculation is that. It's only that the key word there is brother, which means that Dean drops his keys with a loud clatter on the table beside the door, but then he doesn't immediately deliver the aspirin bottle. No, first he crosses to fill up one of the little plastic complimentary cups with water, and then he opens the damn package, because he's just that awesome. It's three of the pills from inside that finally make it into Sam's waiting palm, followed by nudging the bottom of the full cup against his knuckles until he takes it in such a way that he won't immediately dump it over.]

Alright, William Hung, don't choke on this. You've still got puke breath and I'm too pretty to settle for that even this early in the morning.

You think you can keep anything down yet or is offering you a donut a waste of perfectly good deep fried awesomeness?