It wasn't the first time that Sam Winchester woke up screaming in the middle of the night. It certainly wasn't going to be the last either.
Even though used to the outbursts in the unholiest hours, Dean lurched upright in bed and his eyes searched the room wildly for his brother in concern. It hadn't been a scream, but more like a strangled cry. Those always scared him the worst.
"Vision?" was all he had to ask once he visually located his brother sitting upright in bed.
"No, bad dream," Sam rubbed his face and then flew out of bed, "Gonna throw up."
Dean sighed and laid back against his pillow, heart pounding. Sammy really did scare him sometimes and Dean was always grateful for a bad dream rather than a premonition of somebody's death. Those effected his baby brother the worst.
With another sigh, Dean got up from the warm and comfortable bed after a long minute of hearing Sam's stomach come apart in the toilet in the bathroom a few feet away.
There was nothing that a good bottle of ginger ale and brotherly love couldn't fix.