More from the Hoodie Time comment fic meme on LJ.
"Another one? Dude, haven't you had enough?"
Dean's flushed behind the steering wheel, two hard lines cut between his eyebrows. "What is this, an intervention?"
"I just think maybe you could use some sleep sometime this century."
Dean rolls down the window and leans into the drive thru speaker, then turns back to Sam. "Sleep's totally overrated." He clears his throat and raises his voice. "One jumbo coffee."
Sam wakes at three in the morning. Dean's hunched over the laptop. His eyes are like cherries in the light from the screen.
"Dean. Go to bed."
Dean twitches at the noise. He looks up and scratches the back of his head, then his arm. Then his knee. "Did you know that a hummingbird can flap its wings eighty times a second? Eighty times, Sam. If we could just harness that power, think what we could do."
"Forget windmills. And their hearts." Dean rubs his nose and giggles. "They beat 1260 times a minute."
Sam pushes up on his elbow. "Are you feeling OK?"
"I feel better than OK. I feel fantastic." Dean jiggles his leg. His face glimmers with sweat.
"Man... just lie down."
"Yeah, yeah." Dean digs a thumb into his temples. "In a minute."
Across the diner table, Dean's face is red. The pouches under his eyes are epic.
"I think you have a fever."
"What?" Dean sips coffee from a white mug. He hisses as some sloshes over the side and burns his hand. "Damnit."
"I said you don't look so good."
Dean's chest is rising and falling fast. He sniffs and covers his eyes.
"Yeah. So, I'm calling sick day. Let's just go back to the motel and watch a movie or something."
"Movie?" Dean flinches so hard he knocks over the salt shaker and stares to his side. There's nothing there.
Sam frowns. "After breakfast. You should try and eat something."
"Uh." Dean rubs his breastbone and curls inward. He wheezes. "Huh."
"I, uh." Dean swallows, grunts and winces. "Hmm." His face crumples and he groans, clawing at his own chest. Teary eyes lock onto Sam's. He gags, flushing even deeper, and fights to get a breath in. "H-heart..."
"Whoa. Whoa. OK. OK, just relax. I'm calling an ambulance." Sam's reaching across and grasping Dean's shoulder, dialing. "Hey. Hey, stay with me." Dean whimpers, dripping sweat onto the table. "You're gonna be fine."
He's writhing on the floor when the paramedics get there, his fingers twisted up in Sam's sleeve.
"What'd the doctor say?"
"I swear to God, it felt exactly like a heart attack."
"Dean. What did the doctor say?"
"She suggested that I moderate my caffeine intake."
Sam blows out a breath, stops pushing the wheelchair in the middle of the hall. "That was a caffeine overdose?"