This was requested by SilentSJ. I am sorry for taking forever, I hope it is enjoyable!
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Dean flinched as the sun glinted off the wet road, causing a searing pain behind his eyes. He bit back a groan, reminding himself that Sam was in the car with him, and he didn't need brotherly mother hen, especially since Sam had been really moody lately. So he opted to hide his discomfort, even if he could barely see it hurt so badly.

Sam sat in his seat scowling at the map and his too small phone screen. They had found a hunt, but it seemed that Dean was taking the long way around, and it was making him mad as all get out.

"I said take a right back there." he grumbled in frustration.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled softly, trying not to wince at the pain that was increasing behind his eyes. "Can I take the next right to get to the same road?" he asked, trying to appease his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, before returning his attention to his phone and the map to check Dean's idea. "Yeah, that'll work: take the next exit, then take the first left, followed by the next right, and you should see the inn at the end of the road." he instructed, not realizing that Dean was fighting to just keep his eyes open and on the road.

Dean bit his bottom lip, before a groan escaped his lips.

"It's not that bad... Geez." Sam grouched in annoyance.

"Sorry, not why I groaned. But whatever, I'll get us to the inn." Dean ground out, as he took the first exit, proceeding to following Sam's instructions to a "T". He pulled into the inn, and Sam was out the impala and booking them a room and in said room waiting on him, before he could even blink.

He got out of the car slowly, blinking at the harsh sunlight. He walked up to room on the bottom floor, thankfully, squinting up at Sam when he got there.

Sam left the door open, using one of the door wedges, as he went and got on his laptop to better research the case they were just starting.

Dean slowly stumbled into the room, after closing the door to the impala and almost collapsing in agony. He ambled inside, keeping his movements as slow and careful as possible, to not trigger his growing migraine or the nagging stomach ache that accompanies intense migraines. To no avail, no sooner did he walk in the room did his stomach start flipping.

All he wanted to do was lay down and try to sleep off the migraine that was plaguing his nervous system and head, but he knew Sam wouldn't let him off the hook if he passed out on a hunt. So he did what he always does, and grabbed them both a beer, offered one to Sam and popped his own open. He winced as the smell sent his stomach churning aggressively, but he swallowed a good amount, willing it to stay down with every fiber of his being, as he sat down at the crappy motel table across from Sam.

"What do we got, Sam?" he asked gruffly, fighting to appear normal.

Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed that Dean was drinking and it was barely four pm, which wasn't all that early, just the idea made him furious.

"Four dead women, both killed with their hearts removed and horrible slash marks. Tonight's the third night of the week leading up to the full moon, they are only getting stronger. The deaths make a square, so I imagine the werewolf is living in that twelve block residential area." he explained in a huff.

Dean paled faintly. "Twelve blocks... is that all?" he asked, sounding a bit worse for wear.

"Yes, Dean." Sam growled. " We need to leave in a couple hours. I'm going on a food ran, the usual crap?" he asked rudely.

Dean smiled weakly, not taking his brother's fighting bait, and nodded as he focused on not vomiting on his brother.

"Whatever." Sam snapped, as he grabbed the keys that Dean held out to him silently, without a single warning or word.

He stood up and stomped out the door, slamming the door hard enough to make even himself and Dean cringe.

Dean sagged in relief, resting his head on the bare table out of pure exhaustion and relief. He closed his eyes as he felt like a jack-hammer was trying to blast through his skull and behind his eyes. He stayed that way until he heard the impala's engine return.

He slowly forced his read up off the table, which encouraged the jackhammer to return with a vengeance. He had gotten most of his headache to ease slightly.

Sam stomped into the room, looking completely drenched, his arms laden with drinks and bags of food. He put them down on the table, before collapsing in his chair with a grunt.

"Got you a bacon double cheeseburger and a ton of fries." he said, a slight edge to his voice, as he put Dean's bag of food in front of his older brother.

"Thanks, Sam, smells great." Dean lied, as he excitedly opened his food and dug in, even as his stomach flipped in protest. "I'm ready to go hunt this werewolf when you are.” he added, pushing too hard to look like everything was normal.

"Great.” Sam said, sounding annoyed, as he opened and dug into his own food. He could tell something was off about Dean, he couldn't quite place what it was though, and it was seriously pissing him off.

He opened his laptop, before opening his food, and pulled up a website to all them to listen to the police radio undetected.

Dean ate all his food, knowing if he didn't Sam would notice, even if all that food threatened to come right back up. He jumped when the computer beeped loudly, before the dispatcher's voice could be heard explaining that another had been found missing its heart exactly smackdab in the middle of the twelve blocks.

He and Sam looked at each other before jumping to their feet: Sam running out the door, and poor Dean was frozen in place, not even daring to swallow or blink as he waited for his churning stomach to slow down long enough for him to follow Sam out to the impala.

He jumped, as Sam evidently laid on the horn, which was a surprisingly loud sound, when your entire mental willpower is absorbed in trying not to puke.

Once he got over the initial shock of the horn, he realized his stomach was marginally better, so he forced himself to get moving before Sam left without him. He walked gingerly out to the car, got in, and buckled up, before turning to face Sam, who was pissed-to-hell.

Sam ignored Dean and instead focused on getting them to the last killing site. He got out of the car immediately upon arriving, not bothering to wait for Dean. He flashed his cheap fake badge, and introduced himself and his brother, just as Dean is able to join him.

" I'm Agent Korin, this is Agent Casey.” he said stiffly, as they were waved onto the crime scene areas. "Took you long enough…” he added in a low voice.

Dean blinked at Sam dully, before nodding his agreement. "Sorry.” he mumbled half-heartedly. The migraine was starting to numb his senses and equilibrium.

He stumbled along behind Sam, bumping into people and apologizing weakly, stepping on things he wasn't supposed to, and driving everyone, including Sam, crazy. It wasn't until he stepped in a puddle of blood and slipped and fell, grabbing and pulling Sam to the ground with him.

"What the hell, Dean?! Why can't you get your act together today, you can't follow orders for anything. So what the crap?!” Sam yelled, even though he wasn't injured or dirty even.

Dean looked down at his hands and knees that were coated in blood, cringed hard as Sam started yelling which he heard none of, all he knew was that if he didn't move or something, he was gonna puke or pass out… not necessarily in that order.

He staggered to his feet, stumbling towards Baby with all the strength and willpower he could muster. He collapsed into his seat, barely able to crouch down without something bad happening. He waved out the door to Sam, motioning for him to hurry it up.

Sam stood back by where he had been knocked down, a confused look on his face, as worry startled to settle low in his stomach. He walked up to the impala, peeked inside, only to find Dean trembling as he desperately tried to wipe the blood off, that was only smearing worse and worse on his pants, face, and hands.

"Dean, stop, you're only smearing the blood.” he said softly but firmly, as he slid into the driver's seat, carefully watching Dean's every move.

Dean's bottom lip wavered, as he started wiping at his hands frantically. His face going from pained-pale to extremely pale and in pain.

"It's just blood! What is your problem?! You tampered with evidence!” Sam yelled angrily, when he saw how agitated and pale Dean looked.

Dean gasped suddenly, grabbing the sides of his head, as the pounding was escalating to near explosive.

It was only then, that Sam started to wonder what was honestly going on with his big brother.

"Dean?” he asked in a gentler tone, he moved closer to Dean in concern.

“Sammy,” Dean murmured weakIy, his voice so filled with pain, that Sam's heart sank.

"I'll get you to the motel, close your eyes, we'll get you sorted.” Sam promised fervently, even though he didn't know exactly what was wrong. He scooted to the wheel and drove them to the motel, as quick as was legally possible.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that all the food he'd eaten earlier wasn't going to reappear. He swallowed back a few gags, but that only made him more nauseous.

Sam pulled into the motel, opened his door, and got out, being sure not shut the door in case, he was right, and Dean had a headache. He ran over, opened Dean's door, only to find his big brother curled in a ball on his seat, arms protecting his face from the light, clueing Sam into all he needed to know. Dean had a migraine, judging by his behavior it was a doozy.

"Dean, come on, let's get you inside.” He said softly, as he mentally replayed the day, realizing he was a complete jerk and Dean had been feeling awful for hours.

Dean groaned, sitting up gingerly as he kept one bloodied hand over his eyes completely. "Move…” he spat in warning, moments before leaning out of the car with a powerful but unproductive dry heave.

Sam barely jumped back in time for Dean to dry heave.

"Whoa! Okay, take a breath, maybe you can avoid getting sick.” he said, as Dean continued to dry heave aggressively.

Each dry heave made his head feel like it was going to explode. The harder he tried to throw up, the more nauseous he felt. Out of nowhere he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, and his stomach gave one final push, and a rush of lunch erupted from his lips, coating the cement outside the car.

Sam cringed in sympathy for his big brother, as he rubbed Dean's back, and wrapped his other arm around his shoulders to keep him from falling out of the car. He kept a tight grip, as Dean was sick again and again, knowing that he was probably the only thing keeping his brother from passing out from the pain in his head.

In the past, when Dean had migraines, they were never little headaches. They were doozies: excruciating pain, disorientation, dizziness, vomiting (sometimes projectile), no sound or lights allowed, and no food or strong smells of any kind. Each symptom seemed to set off the others, causing him so much pain and nausea, that he was often found in the fetal position on the bathroom floor.

“I need to lay down…” Dean panted out, as he finally stopped trying to turn his stomach inside out. He still felt really sick to his stomach, but being upright with a migraine always did that to him.

Sam nodded briefly, letting go of Dean slowly, relieved when when his brother could stay upright on his own, shakily though. He walked around to the driver’s side, before saying anything to his brother, as he knew loud sounds, including voices, tended to hurt like heck.

“Scoot this way, past the wheel, so you don’t have to open your eyes, in order to avoid stepping in the puke. I’ll guide you into our room, so you can lay down.” he instructed, as he watched Dean feel around with his free hand to feel where to go, as his brother scooted over to him and climbed out of the car.

Sam stuck his hand out to block Dean from hitting his head on the roof of the car, as his brother hits his hand hard, implying that his poor brother would have hit his aching head on the roof and hard.

He gingerly guided Dean into the motel room, helped him to his bed, but before allowing Dean to lay down, he helped him get out of his bloody clothes, and change into sweats and a t-shirt, then sat him down on the bed.

“Don’t lay down.” he said swiftly, as he grabbed and carried the bloodied clothes to the bathroom. He dumped the clothes in the tub to wash by hands, before grabbing, wetting down, and wringing out a couple of washcloths, which he carried over to Dean. He set to work working quickly, but gingerly, on wiping away all the blood from Dean’s hands, arms, face, neck, and hair.

Once he was done, he guided Dean to lay down, covering him with only a sheet, so he wouldn’t overheat and spark a fever.

Dean hummed in relief, as the blood was wiped away, and he was allowed to lay down, which allowed some of the pressure in his head to lessen.

“Thanks, Sammy.” he mumbled, as he fought to stay awake.

“Get better and stop talking.” Sam whispered, as he cleaned up the washcloths.

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He smiled in relief, as he heard Dean’s breathing even out. He knew deep down, his brother would be okay, or more so okay, when he woke up.

I hope you enjoyed this rather long fic, lol. As always: vote, comment, and request away. Love you all! <3

P.S. I am so sorry for my absence, I am working on getting back into the swing of updating, and hope to be updating sooner and more frequently soon. I hope you all are well! <3