Freaking Witches

Back to the Hunt

When Dean awoke the following morning, he groaned in discomfort. He stretched his arms above his head, trying to shake away the sleep, but his body ached in protest. Dean was sore, and his muscles ached, not to mention that he felt like he'd eaten about fifty Biggerson Burgers in a single sitting. He let out a defeated sigh and threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. Right then and there, Dean concluded that periods were the spawn of Satan himself.

As Dean lay in bed, considering the pluses of just rolling over and going back to sleep, he heard the telltale clicking sound of Sam typing away on his treasured laptop.

With a sigh, Dean rolled onto his side and spotted his brother sprawled lazily across the sofa, his laptop open, as his fingers clattered across the plastic keyboard

"Sam..." Dean moaned pitifully.

Slowly, Sam looked up at him, unwillingly tearing his eyes away from his computer screen.

When Dean was sure he had his brother's attention, he whimpered, "Just kill me now Sammy."

Sam snorted and arched his brow in amusement. "Dean, when has one of us dying ever turned out good for anyone?" Sam commented lightly.

Dean glared at his brother, narrowing his eyes and failing to find the amusement in Sam's statement. It was too early for sarcasm and off colored teasing. Dean's brain wouldn't come online until he had a nice strong cup of black coffee.

After a minute, Sam set aside his laptop and surprised Dean by bringing him some more painkillers and a bottle of beer. Dean accepted both gratefully as Sam said, "There is water too if you want it."

Dean shook his head and took the beer from Sam, "Nah, this is fine."

Then, he quickly downed both the medicine and the beer. He knew that mixing medicine and alcohol probably wasn't the greatest idea, but it hadn't killed him yet. After he had drained the last of the beer, Dean asked, "Man, how long does this shit last?"

Sam gave him a look of sympathy and said, "Uh, well it usually lasts for about a week, sometimes less if you're lucky, but seven days is the average."

Dean pouted as he groaned, "Fuck, this shit sucks." When Sam sat down on the end of Dean's bed, Dean said, "Hell was better than this crap Sammy."

"I don't know what part of hell you went to, but I'm sure it was far worse than this," Sam snorted in disbelief

"Dude, everything hurts right now. My whole body aches and I just feel drained of energy. It's like I just got my ass handed to me by a Windigo. Oh and let's not forget that I am bleeding from my girl bits," Dean said, trying to emphasize just how high his level of discomfort was.

"Ugh God," Sam groaned as he recoiled and scrunched his nose at that unpleasant thought. Periods were one of those things that guys didn't have to worry about and didn't like to talk about. Things like this were foreign to men and were more than a little repulsive. Now that Dean was getting a first-hand experience at what life was like with a period, he disliked the topic even more.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dean huffed. "I suggest that you shut your trap now, and appreciate the fact that you aren't in my shoes right now."

Sam let out a slow breath of air and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm gonna need some coffee to deal with you today," Sam grumbled as he stood and walked towards an ancient looking coffee maker.

When Sam's back was turned, Dean flipped his brother off. Then in a sweet, pleading tone, Dean asked, "Hey, uh, can you make me a cup too, Sammy?"

"It's Sam," Sam shot back, but Dean heard his brother grab two coffee mugs anyway.