Every pore in his body hurt, if that was even possible. Every cell was burning, his vision was tilting, and Dean just wasn't having a good time whatsoever as he climbed the stairs to the motel room on the second floor. Sam was waiting on him to bring up the food for dinner (since they took turns fetching things from diners or stores) and Dean had been trying to hurry as fast as he could before his brother ate the sofa.
But dammit, he felt like shit.
He was tired, stressed out to the max, and frankly not in the mood for any bullshit. Dean had practically ran out of the motel room when Sam began bitching about how hungry he was. Well, not exactly ran since he was so dizzy. Dean took the stairs slowly, one at a time.
Right up, left up, right up, left up. . .
Then Dean began to lose his balance. Wildly reaching out for the handlebar on the stairs, Dean flailed as his vision darkened and exhaustion overtook him. He was vaguely aware of his back and head smacking against something repeatedly, but he just didn't care at that point.
The older Winchester came to in a panic, jerking his head upright. Then he winced and set it back down when the world began to be a rollercoaster ride. God, he hated rollercoasters.
"Dean," Sam said more gently this time, "Dean, are you okay?"
Dean reopened the eyes that he had forgotten he had shut, "Yeah. . .no, what happened?"
He saw Sam leaning over him and felt the ground. . .concrete. . .below him. Sam's eyes were as wide as saucers and Dean wondered briefly what had freaked his little brother out. Then he foggily realized that it was him.
"You fell down the stairs! I heard a crash and then came outside and saw you here and--"
"Sammy, calm down," Dean groaned as his sibling began to run his words together in a frenzy. Then he steadily rose up to a sitting position with Sam's help.
"Should you be sitting?" Sam asked. Then Dean began to get to his feet and Sam asked, "Should you be standing?"
"M'fine," Dean muttered, feeling like he would collapse back onto the concrete. Sam, fortunately, was there to steady him, "We should go inside," Sam suggested.
"Good idea," Dean replied, with a touch of instinctual sarcasm that came with pain, "Lead the way."
"C'mere," Sam gestured. Dean stared at him suspiciously for a moment, "Don't you dare try to carry me inside, Sasquatch."