Sam laid awake, staring up at the ceiling of the motel. The smell of mold and dust was overwhelming to the sensitive Winchester's nose. He was going on nearly two days without sleep and felt like his senses were heightened more so than usual, everything except for energy though. If only he could shut off his brain long enough to catch a few hours of sleep.
Careful not to wake his snoring older brother, he slowly raised out of bed and walked to the door to get some fresh air. A gust of wind smacked him in the face, and he sighed of relief. For once it would be nice to have a motel room that smelled somewhat clean, he thought.
The last few days have been difficult. Dean was being hard on Sam. He needed to know if Sam's nightmares have stayed gone or if he's been experiencing any headaches or visions. In fact every time Sam did as little as close his eyes for too long, Dean jumped on him with questions.
"Sammy? You good?"
"Are you sure? No visions?"
"Noggin feeling okay?"
Sam shook his head in annoyance just playing over his brothers constant hovering. It's not like he didn't understand why Dean was worried. Sam had just made it a little over a month without drinking demon blood and the guilt does keep the nightmares coming. It was a few times a week that he'd wake up with Dean shaking him telling him that he's been talking and shaking in his sleep. As far as Dean knew, this was the source of Sam's problems lately but in reality he's been restricting food and losing weight to feel in control again. The demon blood gave him impressions of power. Now he feels powerless.
Sam started walking into the parking lot of the motel though his body felt beyond exhausted. Every day he made a goal to take in as little calories as possible, knowing that burning a certain amount will result in weight loss. He was aware that he didn't have to burn any more calories today; he hasn't eaten for five days after all.
Dean was catching on to it a little more each day. He's been able to keep it from him because Dean's choice of energy is greasy take out burgers and beer while Sam was always more of a healthy eater. If Dean pulled into a diner that didn't have many healthy choices, Sam just told his brother he would grab something from a gas station next to the motel while sipping on an unsweetened tea. When they'd be on the road and Dean would grab some chips, or pie, or any other food for the two of them, Sam would shove some in a bag to the right of him while Dean was drumming away to his music or otherwise occupied to keep his suspicion down. Today however was the 4th time in a row that Sam chose not to order something at a sit-down restaurant, upsetting Dean.
-Earlier that day-
"Dude, I haven't seen you eat in days. Stop with the rabbit food, man up and eat something already," Dean said when Sam waved the waitress away when she asked what he wanted.
"Whatever was in those tortilla chips you grabbed on our way to Seattle it didn't do my stomach any justice. I'm fine with just some water," Sam replied knowing full well the tortilla chips were actually in the bottom of the trash can at the motel they are staying at.
"That's because you turned your stomach into a sensitive girl pouch," Dean muttered. "You need to eat real man food again."
"I said I'm fine, Dean," Sam said. "I saw this in the newspaper. Should we give it a check? Looks like it might be our kind of thing."
"Sure," Dean answered moving his head in the direction of a double bacon cheeseburger coming his way losing interest in the conversation.
Sam smiled to himself. He managed to get away with yet another day without food.
After walking down the street for about an hour, Sam glanced at his watch showing 4:03am. Knowing his brother was going to be up and wanting to check out the home of a slaughtered family in a few hours, he decided to head back to the motel and try to get an hour or two of rest.
Sam very slowly opened up the door of the motel, careful not to make it creak too loud and wake up Dean. He stepped in, closed it just as slowly and walked over to his bed. He laid down, pulled the covers up and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost instantly.
-Later that day-
Sam and Dean were running. They knew they couldn't overpower the demon. No bullets in the colt, no dagger, not even a sprinkle of holy water as a defense.
"Sam! Here!" Dean yelled to his brother as he slid into a small space between two walls. If anything, it could hide them for a few moments until they decided on what to do.
As Sam was sliding in with his brother trying to catch his breath from running, his ears started ringing.
Numbness spread to the tips of his fingers and his head began feeling an overwhelming warmth.
"Shit. Shit not now," he thought putting his forehead against the cold concrete wall.
Dean was busy feeling his jacket pockets trying to find any source of salt for his gun to notice his little brother barely conscious.
Sam was pissed at himself. He was running off adrenaline and wasn't even experiencing hunger pains! He should've been just fine! But he knew that his body was finally showing how deprived of nutrients it really was.
Sam started sliding down the wall as his knees were too weak to hold himself up. Dean still hasn't noticed, frustrated at their lack of supplies and for going into the house without more back up.
It was only when Dean heard a loud "FLUNK" and snapped his head to the left where his little brother laid with his eyes closed and face paled.
He quickly put down his gun and crouched next to him shaking his shoulders.
"Sammy?!" He asked concerned. "Sammy, hey!"
After a few moments of not getting a response, Dean became more aggressive with his shaking.
"Dude! The hell?" Dean was yelling, getting really getting concerned.
Dean kept shaking Sam, and after around 30 seconds Sam started stirring blinking and coming back to.
"Dean? Wh-What are you doing?" He asks, fear obvious on his face as he realizes that he just fainted.
Luckily, it was too dark for Dean to make out the features.
"You just fainted!" Dean yelled. "Get the hell up before the thing catches up."
Sam puts both hands on the ground and stands on his feet for a slight second before he tumbles down again, too weak.
"You have got to be kidding me! Sam! What the hell is going on?!"
Sam felt defeated, and embarrassed.
All the sudden there was laughter coming from the boy's side and a dark shadow of a man was coming into view.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The demon chuckled, clutching the knife used to kill everyone in the household the brothers were investigating.
"You so much as step one inch closer and you'll go back to hell bitch," Dean snarls still clutching on to Sam's shoulder.
"Fortunately for the one there" he hissed motioning at Sam, "I've been told not to hurt him. But you- you I can skin until I get enough of your screams."
Dean lets go of Sam and lunges out into the opening, smacking the side of the demon's face with the butt of his gun. The demon falls and hits the ground from behind and stares back up at Dean smiling.
"You. Will. Never. Touch. Him," Dean spits.
He continued to lay there, bloodied and laughing.
"Yeah, we will see about that."
Just then the demon opens his mouth and yells, black smoke tunneling out of him and into the air leaving an unconscious man.
"Shit," Dean mumbles before looking back at Sam.
Sam is sitting, knees curled up to his chest with his head on his knees looking back at Dean with tears streaming down his dirtied face.