Something I wrote for Dean's 30th Birthday and never posted here. Seemed like a good time to rectify that. Set and spoilers for up to 4.10. The rest to follow daily and will be up in 5 parts. I'm working on Fights, Failures and Flagstaff - honest! Mary x

Too Much Of A Good Thing... Is Bad For You

His phone was ringing, at least he thought it was his phone. It was either that or he was back in Hell and they'd devised a new and more devious way of torturing him...…not that he wasn't doing a fine job of that on his own.

He groped wildly at the nightstand and swore as the phone fell to the floor. "Just go to voice mail already...please?"

Dean groaned and cover his head with the pillow, hoping that it would muffle the sound well enough so that he could ignore it until it stopped and then he'd have time to bring his brain back online before he had to brave rolling over and leaning out of the bed to try and retrieve it.

He breathed a short sigh of relief as it briefly went silent and then groaned as the hateful noise started back up again. He freed a hand from under the pillow and pointed a finger in the general direction of floor. "Shut up, please… whoever you are...…just leave me to die quietly and in peace."

Dean's hangover was getting overly friendly with what brain cells he had left after last night's little adventure in booze land and handcuff heaven with Molly, the hot, hot barmaid. He'd got back a few hours ago, fell coming in, woke Sam and had then paid for his misdemeanour by having to listen to his brother talking about what they were going to do today and, he vaguely remembered, about doing a list. Finally though his brain had taken pity on him and he'd passed out.

What was it with his brother and lists anyway? Dean didn't need a list, he wanted to sleep the whole of today away and forget about it. Not make a damned list, although if he had to, top of the list at the moment would be to get his phone to shut. the. hell. up.

Somewhere inside his head he knew that there was a little quiet place where his phone and the jackhammer drilling into his skull couldn't reach…all he had to do was to get the same damned phone to stop ringing long enough for him to find it.

It wouldn't so he gave up.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and opened one eye. Sam was lying on the other, cover up nearly over his head, with his back to him. Wondering briefly why his brother hadn't answered it Dean dropped his eyes to the floor and tried to focus on the phone that was lying there just out of arm's reach.

"Oh come on!" He slid his hand back under the pillow, grabbed his knife and leaning over used it to flick the phone towards him. "Hah, got you, you little…..oh come on!" He stared at the silent object in his hand…and stared…and stared. "Now you stop ringing you…"

"Morning Dean!" His brother's voice was way too chirper and cheery for this time in the morning, even if he had no idea what time it actually was. He forced himself back on the bed, still glaring at the phone and then looked over to Sam, the Sam that was now sitting up on his bed, crossed legs, fully dressed…and with his phone in his hand. Dean looked from his phone to his brother.

"Was that….?"

"Uh huh." Sam smiled at him and Dean resisted the urge to throw either his phone or, at this moment more temptingly, his knife at his brother's head.

"Bitch!" Dean spat out with feeling as he rolled onto his back and shut his eyes again. "Aren't you supposed to be nice to me today…of all days?"

"I thought you'd forgot." Sam reached behind him and brought the glass of water and the two tablets onto the table between them. "See…I'm being nice."

"Yeh, you're a peach." Dean gingerly pushed himself into a semi-sitting position. "I wouldn't need these if you had just let me sleep!" He swallowed the tablets and leant back on the headboard. "I was trying to forget Sam, hence the all night sex and the major, major hangover." He raise a hand to his forehead to stop his brain from just bursting it's way out of the front of his skull.

"Do you even remember last night?"

"Did you see Molly?" Dean turned and carefully raised an eyebrow. "Sam, no amount of alcohol would make you forget a woman as fine as that." Dean really wanted to wiggle that eyebrow at his brother but he was scared of just how much that might hurt at the moment. He settled for a grin instead.

"Had fun then?" Sam's voice was way louder that it needed to be and Dean's brain finally switched on. He could play the mean brother too.

"Sure did Sam." The grin turned evil. "I swear to God…there was this thing that she did with her tongue…."

Sam cut him dead. "Don't! Do not even think about doing that." He glared at his brother as Dean's grin changed to a look of innocence.

"What? You asked if I had fun…I was going to fill you in on some of the details." He risked the eyebrows this time. "Give you a few tips."

"Don't need tips thanks."

"Oh, forgot…demonic lover." Dean laughed and then instantly regretted it. He covered his eyes and groaned.

"Jerk." Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. "Just spare me ok?"

"Only if you let me go back to sleep." Dean tried to slide back down the bed only for his phone to start ringing again. He glared over at Sam. "Stop that…need sleep."

"Nope, can't do. Bobby called. Wants us at his place. ASAP. You can sleep in the car."

"Did he say why? We just came from there." Dean mentally thanked Bobby, he would at least be saved from his brother and the dreaded list if Bobby needed them. He swung his legs off the bed and realised that he might just have drunk a little more than he should have as his stomach back flipped up into his throat. He bolted for the bathroom.

"That job I was researching for him, he wants our help on it." Sam stuck his head round the door and then recoiled as the smell hit him. "Dude that's gross, get showered, get dressed and for god's sake…brush your teeth."

Dean gave him the finger and rested his head on the edge of the toilet.

Sam felt just a little sliver of pity for him. He went to walk away and then stuck his head briefly back round the door, holding his nose as he did.

"Oh one other thing."

Dean carefully turned his head to the side and stared at his brother, his eyes bright green but glassy in the dull light of the bathroom. "What?"

"Happy Birthday Dean." Sam smiled at his brother.


Dean closed his eyes and silently wished again that he was dead.