Okay, so not my best work… but this jumped from my head to my typing fingers in pretty quick succession. Kinda cracky, set right after "All Dogs go to Heaven". Feel free to leave comments, but know I am a big softie! Thanks!


Dean awoke to the sound of his cell phone alarm. 7:15 a.m. "Ugh, okay, okay, I'm up!" He grabs the cell to shut it off and rolls to lie on his back. Still half-asleep, eyes closed, Dean listens to the sounds of the morning. Obviously "RoboSam" wasn't around, he would hear him slinking around the room, attempting to be quiet (and usually failing). Suddenly Dean heard a snorting sound to his left and stared right into the sleeping face of Sam on the opposite bed.

"Huh. Um…. Sam? Hey, Sam?" Dean sat up and shook Sam by the shoulder. No response, just more snoring. Curious about this new development, Dean took the opportunity to stare at this stranger. Having just admitted yesterday that he was "not your brother, not Sam", he sure looked like his sleeping Sammy.

Dean thought that perhaps this was a good sign. Maybe Sam is catching up on missed sleep. It just doesn't really make much sense, though. Dean pushed Sam's heavy shoulder towards the middle of the bed, getting Sam to lie on his back. Once he turned Sam, Dean noticed the bottle of pills lying under his brother. Dean grabbed the bottle and immediately held it up to look. Phenobarbital. Pheno…barbital? "Shit! Sam, Sam, wake up buddy!" Getting nothing, Dean rubbed his fist into Sam's sternum. Weak hands attempted to push Dean off.

"Mmmm. N… no…" Sam whispered, trying to roll away from the pain.

"You idiot! Sam! Come on! How much did you take?" Dean slapped his brother, not so lightly, across the face. Getting more slurred speech and still not having seen Sam open his eyes, Dean did what he had to do. He ran into the motel bathroom and turned the shower on, cold. Ice cold. Getting his humungous brother out of bed and into the shower took a bit more maneuvering. Dean pulled Sam into a sitting position, pulled back the covers and pushed his feet to the floor. With a groan, Dean stood them up, Sam's arm over his shoulders. Sam was like a bowl of Jell-O, no help whatsoever. Dean dragged Sam into the bathroom and carefully lowered him into the tub under the spray of cold water. Sam began moving his head, trying to come around. Dean took the opportunity to run back into the room and grab the pill bottle.

"Where the hell did you get these Sam?" Dean opened the pill bottle and poured out the remaining pills. Counting quickly, Dean saw twenty-seven pills. Three were missing. "Jesus, Sam, tell me you didn't take three!" Grabbing his brother by the chin, Dean yelled for Sam to wake up.

Finally, FINALLY, Sam's eyes opened to small slits. Slowly looking around, Sam seemed to take in his situation. Clumsily, he turned his head to look at Dean. "Um… De… Dean? Wha' the h'll are you d… doing?"

"What the hell am I doing? Sam, what the hell are you doing? Would you like to explain your little OD moment to me? Exactly how many of these did you take?" Dean asked, holding the pill bottle in front of Sam.

Sam cleared his throat and slowly sat up to turn off the water. Head spinning, he brought his hands up to either side of his face. "You, um… you s…said I was creepy for not s…s…sleeping, so I…, um… I did something about it."

Dean looked incredulously at his idiot brother. "Yeah Sam", he laughed bitterly; "you sure did something about it. Would you mind explaining why you thought you should take enough to tranq an elephant?"

Looking completely unashamed, as Sam did most of the time these days, he answered. "Well, one didn't do anything at all, jus' made me a little dizzy... …Two made me drowsy, but left me awake. So I figured that m'maybe three would do the trick."

Dean was confused. "Sam, you don't seem to care what I think. Why the hell would you do this? Why were you trying to sleep anyway?"

"Uh… well", Sam grabbed the sides of the tub and slowly tried to stand. "Can you gimme a hand here Dean?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean grabbed a towel, then Sam. Throwing the towel on Sam's bed, Dean unceremoniously dropped Sam onto the towel.

Sam looked like he was going to go back to sleep, but opened his eyes again. "I don' want you to leave me De… Dean. This isn't easy. I wanna do wha' you want me to do. So… I tried sleeping." With that, Sam's eyes closed and he was out for the count again.

Running his hand down his face in frustration, Dean sighed. He was going to get his brother back, no matter what it took. But, Sam was gonna need his body, so, in the meantime, he has to make sure this idiot doesn't kill it off.


It was a little after noon when Sam made his first attempts at waking. Stretching his long arms and legs, he sat up in bed and looked around the room. Dean was sitting at the small table, laptop open, but eyes on Sam. "Nice nap Sammy?" Dean said sarcastically.

"Uh, yeah. Yes." Sam looked down at himself. "Why am I damp?"

"So you don't remember your early morning wake-up call?"

"No." Sam said simply. Sarcasm and inflection were lost completely on this Sam.

"Okay, well. Your attempt at keeping me around almost killed my brother's body, gigantor!" Getting no response, Dean yelled, "You took too many pills, genius!"

"Oh, um… okay. Guess I should check the dosage next time then." Sam proceeded to get up and start getting ready as if nothing was wrong.

"Unbelievable." Dean felt like he was speaking to a brick wall.


Sam and Dean spent the remainder of the day at the local college library researching their next alpha-prey. Satisfied with the day's work, Dean stood and slapped the back of Sam's head.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Oh nothin', just letting you know that I'm ready to go. Oh, and making sure you are still alive", Dean smirked.

It was fairly late, the campus library closing at 10 p.m. Dean didn't know if Sam found food as unessential as sleep, but he was hungry. Starving. On the walk out to the car, Dean had one thing on his mind. "Dinnertime."

Dinner was burgers and beer at a hole-in-the-wall bar and grill. They barely spoke at dinner. Dean didn't have a lot to say to "RoboSam" and apparently Sam had nothing to add either. Excusing himself to use the restroom, Dean told Sam to meet him at the car. A few minutes later they were in the car for the twenty-minute ride back to the motel.

Pulling into the motel parking lot, Dean looked over at Sam. Sam appeared to be sleeping. "I'll say it again. Unbelievable!" Punching Sam on the shoulder, Dean shouted… "Sam! Motel! Bedtime!" At that Sam opened bleary eyes to stare at Dean.


"Damn Sam, you are so eloquent these days." Dean got out of the car, walked around to Sam's side and pulled open the car door. Sam fell out onto the gravel.

"Uh oh!" Sam laughed.

"Uh oh, Sam? Seriously?" Dean looked down at his laughing, lumbering brother who was attempting to stand up.

"Sam… are you… drunk?" Dean couldn't believe he was asking. He ate dinner with Sam, he only had two beers. Then again, he didn't really know much about this Sam.

"Wha? Soul or not Dean, th…this is pretty funnnnnnny."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam… let's not make that your new catch-phrase 'kay? What the hell is wrong with you? Two beers gets this Sam plastered? You'd think it would be just the opposite!" Dean bent down to help Sam stumble into the motel.

"Oh, ummmmm….. nuh uh. Not plastered. Jus' sleepy. This time, big brother," Sam clapped Dean on the back, "I checked the dosage" he said smiling drunkenly.

Dean pushed Sam onto the bed. "Tell me you didn't." He was fuming. "Tell me you didn't take the Phenobarbital with beer, Sam! I thought I got rid of the bottle!"

"Well, I kinda found it in the trash. I thought if I did it the right way, you… you… wouldn't be mad. One pill Dean. Not three." Sam awkwardly held up four fingers. "Jus' … jus' don' leave. 'Kay?"

Dean ran his hand down his face and huffed, "where's the bottle Sam?"

"In my p…pocket, why?" Sam looked genuinely confused. Well…, blitzed and confused.

Walking over to Sam's side, Dean grabbed the bottle out of Sam's coat pocket.

"Wait!" Sam jumped up and immediately fell right back down again onto the bed. "Whatcha doin'?"

"What do you think I'm doing Sam? I'm getting rid of these. They've brought nothing but trouble." Dean walked toward the bathroom with an intoxicated Sam crawling behind him.

"Wait! Deannn… I said wait!" Sam arrived in the bathroom just in time to see Dean pour the pills into the toilet. "B…but… I don't 'nderstand De… I was jus' bein' log…logical. You wanted me t'sleep and these help me ssssleep."

Once again, Dean found himself rolling his eyes. This was like dealing with a child, or, er… a demented Spock. He bent down to flush the toilet, watching as Sam crawled his way over to look down into the toilet water. He watched Sam's head spin in time with the water and at that exact moment he couldn't have been happier with their situation. Because in a flash, Sam unceremoniously puked his burger, beer and barbiturates in a projectile fashion.

Once the show was over, Dean helped Sam to clean up, and then helped him to bed.

"M'sorry Dean. I was jus' trying to… you know, get you to stay, by following yourrr…rrrules. Sam's eyes threatened to close then and there.

Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders and forced him to look into his eyes. "Okay, you want to follow my rules Sam? Rule number one – run all decisions by me first. For a smart, super-hunter you sure are stupid. Got that Sam? Tell me before you do things. Especially moronic things like this!"

Sam looked suspiciously close to tears, which Dean thought impossible. "'Kay Dean. M'sorry." Laying his head on his pillow and looking at Dean through almost-closed eyes, Sam mumbled, "It'll be better, De… It'll be better when I'm him again."

Dean turned off the lights and sat down on his bed. "Whatever it takes, Sammy. Let's get my brother back. What…ever…it…takes."

That night, Dean was the one not sleeping.