Summary: Sam has a cold and Dean can for once just take care of him without worrying and he even gets the chance to enjoy himself while he is being a good big brother. Just good feelings all around.

Those who want to avoid reading a whole lot of disclaimers can just jump ahead to the line of stars at the beginning of the story, because a lot of rambling is about to ensue.

Disclaimers: I own nothing.

I have never been to America so I know nothing about Alabama, it was simply the first state that came to mind (except Kansas, of course).

'The Daily Show' is a show I have both seen and enjoy immensely but have no association with, for those of you who have no idea what kind of show it is I guess it can be explained as a satirical news show that make fun of other news shows presenting news, or something along those lines. So Dean is quiet right but so is Sammy (on another note: Jon Stewart is simply adorable!).

Have never seen American Jeopardy, except an episode on YouTube with Anderson Cooper because he is simply edible, but I've seen other countries since I guess every nationality has it's own edition, and I have nothing to do with that either.

I do not know anything about Flonase nose spray, I have never seen or heard of it before I googled nose spray to get the details for the story right. I do not endorse this product or any product affiliated with it in any way, shape or form. I'm just a sucker for details.

Same goes for Kleenex.

(And if there really is a 'The Dean Book of Manners' it applies to that too).

I own no songs or bands or persons named in the following story.

Lastly, I don't own Supernatural but I sure wish I did, it's the best show that ever was or is, granting our deprived generation the smallest amount of greatness. This story is simply my way to sing it's praises.

Now on with the show!

In a nowhere town in Alabama there was a motel that had long since given up on attracting people to it by looks and charm, it was now satisfied with sheltering those who passed through the small town. It had a playground without grass, a table without benches and a glowing vacancy sign with only three letters aglow. The rooms met the same standards, beds that creaked, TV's that flickered and chairs with large stains. But in turn the owners didn't ask question, they didn't even ask for proper identification anymore, they just asked for money and silent days to live out their lives. It was the perfect place for the Winchester boys to stay in for a few quiet days.

The reason they needed to take it easy for a while was quite simple, so ordinary that it was almost weird, Sam had gotten a cold. He didn't even have a fever, just a cough, a runny nose and a mild headache. Just enough to make it an excuse to take a break from hunting, which they both secretly felt they needed.

Though this wasn't the way Sam had wanted a bit of free time to be spent, he felt like crap.

For Dean it was simply paradise.

For once there was no worry in the air, no mortal danger was leaping out at them. Sammy was safe and sound, though a little bit moody, and Dean could almost feel the serenity in the air. It was sweet and he had several times caught himself smiling at nothing for the past days, Sam had almost bitten his big brothers head off when he caught Dean smiling as he blew his nose and Sam insisted that it was no ordinary cold, it was a demonic flu. Dean had just laughed, which didn't improve Sam's mood.

Now it was late in the evening the third day in town, Dean was sitting on his bed watching the Daily Show and fooling himself into thinking that he was keeping up with the politics of the world, Sam was sniveling in bed and as a sneeze raked his body Dean looked up with a mask of annoyance.

"Dude, keep it down. I'm trying to watch the news."

"Fub you", was his brothers muffled, half-hearted response, before he stilled as he realized what his brother had said. "The news?", Sam said incredulously as he lifted his head a few inches of the pillow and got an almost tortured expression on his face as he saw the TV, he fell back down on the pillow. "That's not the news."

"Sure it is.", Dean said matter-of-factly. Sam didn't bother to argue.

A few minutes of silence passed before Dean's attention again was dragged from the screen as Sam loudly blew his nose, Dean got a small smile on his lips before he looked back at the TV that was currently depicting and explaining the very newsworthy subject of monkeys washing cats. Dean sighed contentedly, life was good.

"Did you beat up Greg Wilson?"

Dean got an annoyed expression on his face as he turned to Sam. "What are you talking about? Who the hell is Greg Wilson?" Sam always got a little lightheaded when he had a cold, to the point of delirious, so Dean wasn't really worried that Sam was talking nonsense, at least not yet.

"Greg Wilson.", Sammy explained and shifted in the bed so he could see Dean as he spoke. "When we were in high school in Utah."

Dean huffed and shook his head. "I didn't go to high school in Utah."

Sam frowned and seemed to look inwards. "It was around Christmas, you were a senior, I was a junior."

"Ohio.", Dean answered and remembered the Christmas tree the school had put in the lobby.

"That's it.", Sam nodded. "There was this guy, a senior, he had blond hair and was like the biggest guy in school."

Dean scratched his chin, suddenly remembering. "He was on the football team."

"Right, and he used to mess with me and one day he pushed me into a locker-"

Dean scowled at the memory, he hadn't seen it happen but he'd heard about it and seen the bruise afterwards.

"-and the next day Greg wasn't in school." Sam stared right at Dean in a way that always made Dean feel corned. "We moved a few days later, Greg hadn't been to school since that day."

"So?", Dean asked and looked back at the TV.

"So, did you beat him up?", Sam sounded insistent.

Dean shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it, but he couldn't hold the smirk off his face when he thought about the catlike scream that had come out of Wilson when Dean had kicked him in a, shall we say, special place.

"You did beat him up."

Sam lay back down and Dean glanced over to see a small smile on his little brother's face. Dean's eyebrow went up, Sam wasn't one to usually delight in other's pain, but than again, he didn't like receiving pain either. "What made you think about all that?", Dean wondered.

Sam shrugged, or tried to at least since he was lying down. "Just my mind wandering."

Another minute or so of companionable silence followed between the brothers before Sam spoke up. "Can you go get my some Flonase"

"What's that? Geek-talk for porn-mag?", Dean asked without looking away from the TV. A second later a dirty Kleenex came flying though the air and landed in his lap. "Gross!", Dean exclaimed and gingerly flicked it to the floor. "Keep your demonic germs to yourself."

"It's a nasal spray, jerk. I can hardly breath anymore."

Instantly Dean looked over and studied his brother chest lower and raise at an even pace, satisfied that his brother was full off shit, he told him as much. "You're full of shit, Sammy."

"No.", Sam answered, lying with his eyes closed. "I'm full of snot."

Dean smirked appreciatively at the glib remark and scooted to the end of the bed. "Al'right.", he amended as he stood up. "I could use some quality time with the missus."

Sam cracked an eye open. "What, you married to the car now."

A mock-affronted Dean looked at the kid lying in the bed. "You would never understand.", Dean said and got a far away look in his eyes.

Shaking his head, Sam closed his eye again. "Just get the Flonase."

Dean threw the remote onto Sam's bed and pulled on his jacket, checking to see if the car-keys were in his pocket. "Anything else?" Sam shook his head. "You armed?", Dean asked as he headed to the door, safety first and all that jazz.

"And dangerous.", the kid answered as he got up on his elbow and pointed to the bag that lay by his bed.

Dean smirked, the kid on the bed looked anything but dangerous. "Yeah, you're a stonecold roadkiller.", Dean's smirk widened at his pun, Sam just shook his head slowly. "Ah, come on,", Dean tried. "I'm working on my feet here, improvising!"

Sam just continued to slowly shake his head. "Thank God you're pretty.", he deadpanned.

It was so unexpected that Dean let out a laugh before he could catch himself, he smiled at his brother and opened the door. "And thank God you're smart.", he retaliated with a grin as he stepped out and, ignoring Sam's insulted expression, he closed the door behind him, still with a smile on his face. Some days were just heavenly.

He started humming 'Hot Blooded' while he walked to the car, rattling his keys to the rhythm in his head and took a few extra steps to fit the tune, mind you he wasn't dancing or anything, just being true to the music. He let a soft hand stroke the car as he passed around the hood to the driver's door and slid into the seat with a contented sigh. The engine purred to life and he sat for a moment just seeping in the noise and feeling, she had been through so much and she still sounded like a kitten. Dean turned the cassette in the player and pulled out of the motel parking lot as 'Black Sabbath' started blasting their music through the speakers.

It wasn't until Dean reached the town that he realized that a) it was quite late and b) it really was a small town. Now, neither of those two should have come as a surprise to him, but he hadn't realized that the town wouldn't have a 24hour drugstore. He drove around until he managed to spot the regular, closed, drugstore between a vintage clothes store and something that looked like a clock store. For a few minutes he sat there in the middle of the road, not bothering to park the car since no one else was around, listening to 'Round and Round' and wondering if going back to the motel, without something that Sammy had asked for, was an option.

Dean decided that it wasn't.

He drove the car to the nearest secluded parking space and got out. The town was quiet as it was quiet late, later than Dean had realized, and he made his way to the back of the drugstore, using stealth more of habit than necessity. The alley behind the store was as quiet as everywhere else and Dean could undisturbed set to work on the outdated alarm system. He was almost disappointed at how easy it was, he had time to do it properly and no lives were at stake, couldn't it have been an alarm he had to really work on? He had to keep himself sharp somehow.

After the alarm was disconnected he started working on the lock on the door. That was a little more difficult, it had clearly been changed quite recently and upgraded several steps above the alarm system.

Three minutes later Dean heard the click he'd been waiting for and a grin spread across his face. He was starting to like this town. He opened the door and stepped into the dark room, deciding against turning on the lights, and walking in. Instantly hitting the back of his hand against something. "Son of a bitch!", he exclaimed silently and felt around the air for what could possibly have hurt that much. It turned out to be a coat rack. Dean moved it a few inches away but decided against further action, the coat rack would probably learn it's lesson when the coats that people came to hang on it fell to the floor. Or not.

He moved through the room but after hitting his foot against a table leg his body was screaming at him to take out his flashlight, and Dean did as requested. He maneuvered easy through the room to the far door and came out the door the store itself. A quick once over told him that cold and flu medicine was by the counter so that's were he went. He easily found the spray Sam had named and was just about to leave when another part of his body decided to speak up, his conscience.

A short internal battle was weighed before he sighed and went behind the counter, a smirk grazed his face as he spotted a pad and a pen lying there. He couldn't help himself, he had to leave a note.

Dear Drugstore People

I came into your shop tonight and took some Flonase because

I'm the Lizard King and I can do anything.

-Jim Morrison

Dean nodded with satisfaction and slipped a few bills under the note and put the pen on top so a breeze wouldn't disturb it. He retraced his footsteps out of the store and shut the door firmly behind him, he even reconnected the alarm. Waiting a few breathless seconds to see if it would go off or just go back to working, he'd never really bothered reconnecting any alarm before, he lucked out and with a smirk he walked back to the car. Not seeing anyone.

He was coming to really like this town, he should really find out what it was called.

When he returned to the motel room Sam was sitting up against the headboard watching a rerun of Jeopardy, mouthing the questions to himself and the room in general. Dean threw the packet at him. "Got any quarters?", he asked the preoccupied kid and deduced from the flaky arm that was the only reply that he did have change and it was in his jacket pocket. Dean took a few coins and went back out, returning a few moments later with a soda.

He held it out to Sam.

Sam looked up with a frown. "What's that?", he asked stupidly.

"Fluid.", Dean answered and Sam took it without a word. Dean shrugged off his jacket.

"You didn't get a brown bag?"

"What?", Dean asked and looked at Sam with confusion written clearly on his face.

"At the drugstore, you didn't get a bag."

"Why would you want a brown bag?", Dean asked and threw his jacket on a chair. Sam shrugged and took the nasal spray of it's packaging along with the obligatory white paper and started reading. "What is Vermont?", Dean told the TV and went to get a shower, ignoring as best he could his brother's expressions as Sam read the side effects of the medicine. Geek, echoed in Dean's mind but remained unsaid.

A half hour later – beauty takes time – when Dean exited the bathroom, Sam had fallen asleep against the headboard with the paper from the nasal spray still in front of him. Dean put the paper on the nightstand and contemplated the pro's and con's of waking his brother up so he could sleep in a more comfortable position. He would get a neck ache if he slept like that and a sore Sammy was a grumpy Sammy and a grumpy Sammy was one of Deans' least favorite Sammy's. Dean decided that it was in his best interest to wake his brother and get him to lie properly.

He woke him gently, or gently according to 'The Dean Book of Manners', by lightly smacking him on the cheek with the backside of his fingers. "Yo, Sammy-boy.", he said gently – still Dean-gently – and waited until Sam's eyelids started to move before he continued. "You'll kill your neck if you sleep like that."

"Huh?", was Sam's reply while he seemed to have trouble focusing on Dean.

"Scoot down in the bed so you can sleep like a princess.", Dean explained, barely managing to keep the laughter from his voice.

Sam seemed to realize what was required of him and he sank down deeper in the bed, letting Dean rearrange the pillows before he collapsed on them and almost instantly fell asleep. "Sleep tight, princess.", Dean said and laughed quietly to himself before he turned to his own bed. Just as he pulled up the covers over him he heard Sammy mumble.

"'Night, jerk."

"Goodnight, bitch.", Dean answered with a smile.

It really was paradise.

A/N: So there you have it. About the Jim Morrison thing, I have no idea if Dean likes 'The Doors' (I can't remember hearing any on the show) but I figured Jim is a legend and he would at least know who he is. The reason I even mentioned it is that I watched the movie 'The Doors' a few days ago and it came to mind when I wrote this.