[The clatter of keys brings an audible wince, but otherwise Sam doesn't complain. Mostly because he knows relief is coming. He lifts his face from the pillow and sort of squints at Dean for a second. Then at the pills in his palm. Then at the water by his hand. Right, moving is needed now.
He takes in what his brother says as he sits up, gives a soft snort of a sarcastic laugh in response to the puke breath comment. With that and the mildly annoyed expression on his face, the meaning there is as clear as if he'd said the words: Yeah, thanks, I'm aware.
Pills are taken, entire cup of water is downed because Sam's mouth feels and tastes gross. At this point he rubs at his forehead with his palm, taking Dean's question into consideration. His stomach feels empty and settled, the water had felt good. Neither it nor the aspirin seemed to be threatening a reappearance. He nods slightly, barely a movement.]
Yeah. Uh-- the first thing.
[Yes to the donut. No to it being a waste. He hopes, anyway. He can always tear at it slowly and eat small pieces. Worse comes to worst, he'll leave the rest of it for Dean. It's not the optimal food to help with a hangover: eggs would have been good, or something green and leafy. But it's not the worst, either. It's something.
With his answer given, he looks at the empty cup in his hand and slowly rises from his sitting position on the bed to go refill it, and maybe brush his teeth for a second time. He comes back to his earlier musing as he moves, decides to chance more embarrassment.]
no subject
He takes in what his brother says as he sits up, gives a soft snort of a sarcastic laugh in response to the puke breath comment. With that and the mildly annoyed expression on his face, the meaning there is as clear as if he'd said the words: Yeah, thanks, I'm aware.
Pills are taken, entire cup of water is downed because Sam's mouth feels and tastes gross. At this point he rubs at his forehead with his palm, taking Dean's question into consideration. His stomach feels empty and settled, the water had felt good. Neither it nor the aspirin seemed to be threatening a reappearance. He nods slightly, barely a movement.]
Yeah. Uh-- the first thing.
[Yes to the donut. No to it being a waste. He hopes, anyway. He can always tear at it slowly and eat small pieces. Worse comes to worst, he'll leave the rest of it for Dean. It's not the optimal food to help with a hangover: eggs would have been good, or something green and leafy. But it's not the worst, either. It's something.
With his answer given, he looks at the empty cup in his hand and slowly rises from his sitting position on the bed to go refill it, and maybe brush his teeth for a second time. He comes back to his earlier musing as he moves, decides to chance more embarrassment.]
Should I even ask what I sang?