"Dude, how the hell did I get sunburned?" Dean muttered, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower.

Sam shook his head at Dean's pink-tinged skin. "I told you to reapply the sunscreen."

"I did!" Dean grabbed two beers from the fridge, offering one to Sam. He twisted off the cap and took a long drink.

"Oh. Well…sorry. I guess you're just really unlucky."

Dean shot the bottle cap into the garbage. "Unlucky—yeah, I guess that's the word for it."

Sam settled back on the bed and stretched out, relaxed and momentarily at peace. "Thanks, man."

"For what?"

"For caring."

FIN


A/N: And there you have it, folks. I apologize profusely for the long delay in getting to the end of this one. The muse simply pooped out on me for a time.