Smile, The Worst is Yet to Come

Part 2

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A week later-
They sat side by side in the midnight black Impala as they cruised along the empty road. Sam kept drifting in and out of sleep as his persistent cough kept waking him with a start. His eyelids were heavy and hazel eyes were struggling to bring things into focus as fatigue plagued him.

Dean was currently much better than his brother. He was sleepy but he'd slept for a solid 12 hours that night as Sam had gotten up and left the room when his coughing was stopping anyone in the motel from falling asleep. The constant tickling pain seemed to increase tenfold when he laid down which really wasn't ideal when you needed your sleep as one slip up on the job could be fatal.

Sam yawned, rubbing at his sensitive red eyes, "We're still visiting Bobby soon, right?" Sam inquired while his eyes followed the curve of the dashboard in front of him.

"Yeah, probably. Why?" Dean's gaze shot over to his brother but he didn't allow it to linger.

"Just think that maybe we need some time to rest... That's all." Sam muttered.

The young man wasn't really the type of person to announce that he was struggling so a request to visit Bobby was as close to an admittance as he'd ever get. Sam obviously knew that he needed some rest but didn't want to slow his brother down.

"That's probably a good idea." Dean didn't point out that he was actually fine but instead, played along to put the taller at ease, "We'll call at the next break."

They were an hour closer to North Dakota when Dean pulled over to feed both his baby and himself. As he leant against the dark, polished paint of the Impala, Sam waved his cell at him to signal that he'd phone Bobby while he was waiting. He watched as the tall man dragged his feet over to the side of the gas station. Sam typed in the numbers easily with speed. Dean wasn't close enough to hear the conversation and was planning on lip reading his brother's lips but Sam turned his back on him to gaze into the distance.

Sam waited as the call connected. His foot tapped impatiently as he looked around. The old hunter must have been in his kitchen as he picked the phone up pretty quickly, "Yeah?" The voice asked gruffly.

Sam shifted awkwardly, it was always uncomfortable asking the older man if they could crash with him even though Bobby would never deny them. He was like the best substitute father they could ever ask for but Sam never wanted to impose on him.

"Hey, Bobby." The young man greeted. His voice sounded a bit different from this recent cold or maybe a flu or something was coming on since it'd be winter soon and he felt like he was getting worse.

"Sam? What's wrong? You sound different?" Bobby asked, swiftly.

"What? Oh, nothing's wrong!" He reassured, "We were just wondering if we could stay with you a few days." He didn't need to talk about his fatigue; Bobby knew the life of a hunter enough to know that barely a single hunt went by where you wouldn't end up exhausted afterwards.

"Of course ya can, ya idjit!" Bobby chuckled openly, "Although, I'm heading outta town for a few days this afternoon so you'd be alone. If that's okay with you guys?" He really didn't mind if they wanted to stay without him there. It's not like they could do much harm to his old rickety home.

"If you don't mind..." Sam replied unsurely. He didn't want to put him out. The tall man fiddled with a lose threat that hung down from his hoodie sleeve.

"Of course not! You know where the spare key is, right?"

Sam confirmed that he did know where the key was before expressing his thanks again and Bobby bid him goodbye then disconnected the call. As he turned around, Dean was coming out of the gas station with his arms laden with so many snacks that he had to push the door with the back of his shoulder.

They made it back to the car at the same time so got in without a word. Dean dumped the snacks, drinks and treats into the middle of the bench between them. Before Sam had a chance to search through them, his elder brother reached down, plucked something from the pile and chucked it onto his lap.

Sam scooped up the small white bottle and read what was inscribed on the label, "What is this?"

Dean watched him from the corner of his eye as the engine started up and they pulled back into the road.

"Just mild sleeping tablets." The elder man shrugged casually before fiddling with the volume on the radio. He turned it down a little; hoping that Sam would take a tablet and fall asleep so the music would need to be quiet.

"Dean," Sam sighed, exasperated, "I don't need sleeping tablets, I'm fine."

"Sure." Dean tapped his brother's knee comfortingly, "Of course."

They lapsed into silence as the impala worked beneath them and Sam's tired eyes scanned the description on the bottle. They seemed pretty harmless but the young man thought back to the pain medication he'd taken an hour or so before.

"They say you shouldn't mix your meds but..." He weighed up the chances of sudden death and they came up slim so he popped open the cap and swallowed down one sleek white pill without water.

He leant against the door and closed his eyes. Thankfully, sleep came relatively quickly and the purring of his brother's baby lulled him off into unconsciousness. His body was shaking slightly with the movement of the car.

Dean shook his head and swallowed. Something must be going on if Sam was willingly taking tablets to help him sleep. He really wasn't the type to rely on anything.

----
The sky was still dark and the air felt cold against their skin once they arrived at The Singer Salvage Yard. It was so early in the morning that it could still pass as the dead of night and no lights lit the old house. Dean pulled up outside Bobby's home and peered up at the house.

Sam had been asleep for about eight hours now but he showed no signs of awakening. His head rested against the cool glass with his mouth slightly ajar. He mumbled and muttered in his sleep every few minutes but never woke up.

"Sam?" Dean patted the sleeping man's shoulder to encourage him.

Blinking awake, Sam sat up and peered around in confusion, "Where are we?"

"Bobby's." He opened the door and began to clamber out into the darkness, "Come on!" He called into the vehicle.

Grabbing their bags, Dean led the way into the old house after finding the spare key, hidden in the glove compartment of a near by dismantled car. Sam just seemed to float after him without taking any of it in. The tall man had a blanket hooked around his shoulders, which he'd grabbed from the back seat. He blinked slowly and eyes moved at a snails pace inside his skull.

Since awakening, the pain in his chest had increased. Before it was like an irritating ache but now, it was like someone was stepping on the centre of his chest. He considered that maybe it was time to visit a doctor to see about the pain in his chest and maybe even the persistent cough. Although, he was certain that it was nothing more than a cold and perhaps a mild chest infection.

Dean left Sam perched on the couch as he dumped their bags in the guest room upstairs. Upon returning back down, he studied his brother for a moment; his eyes were boring into the wall as sleep still hadn't left the usually bright and alert male. Concern coiled in Dean's stomach.

"Hey, Sammy!" He greeted, making the younger man jump, "I was gunna cook something for dinner. What d'ya reckon?"

"I think... I think I might pass on food tonight, Dean. I might just go up to bed already. Those sleeping tablets have made me drowsy. I'll just sleep it off." The pain doubled as he coughed, thick and heavy.

Unwillingly, Dean decided to let Sam chose what was best for himself, "Okay, if you're sure."

After confirming, Sam hauled himself up to the guest bedroom that had two single beds. He got into the one under the window, as he'd done since a child, without even getting changed. At that time, it didn't even seem important; clothes are basically pyjamas for daytime, anyway, right?