Requested by Brinkly01. I apologize, if its not what you requested. Filler story with lots of Season 12 Spoilers! If you aren't that far, DO NOT READ!!!! Enjoy! 

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Dean sat in the impala, nursing another headache, third one this week, and it was only Tuesday. He rubbed his temples, as the pounding there made itself painfully known. He didn't know why these particular headaches were so strong, but he did know that they had only appeared after a specific woman had walked back into his life by the name of Mary.

He sighed softly, knowing he didn't need to be thinking about any of this right now. Anything to do with her, made his stomach churn uneasily, and threw him off his game. He didn't need that while on a hunt, not when Sam was counting on him to watch his back.

"Dean, are you alright, honey?" Mary asked gently, noticing that her eldest didn't look like he was up to par.

"Fine, let's go." Dean growled, tempted to spit the sudden nauseous feeling that overwhelmed him at her sweet tone and words.

Mary stopped short at his tone, and nodded slowly reminding herself to give him time to get used to her presence again.

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Dean got slammed into the wall for the fifth time, the ghost laughing maniacally at his grunt of pain. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his blurry vision, before everything went black, but not before he noted that blood was dripping down the side of his head.

When he came to, he was back in the bunker with Mary dabbing at the cut on his head and he was nauseated all over again.

Did this woman ever leave him alone?  he thought grumpily to himself, pulling away, as the pain from the cut ping ponged inside his already hurting head making it a thousand times worse.

"Morning, my sunshine boy." Mary said sweetly, unable to resist herself. "You really banged yourself up, multiple cuts including a bad one on your head." she explained gently, dabbing again.

"Mom, he isn't a little kid, as cute as it is... He looks sick right now." Sam warned, handing her a bucket, that he grabbed from under the kitchen sink.

"Are you feeling sick, honey?" Mary asked Dean, as he made a gagging noise, even though he didn't really feel like throwing up at the moment.

Dean shook his head no, instantly regretting it, as the moment sent pain shooting pain through his skull. "I need to sleep this pain off, that's all." he said, his voice thick with pain.

Sam shot him a sympathetic look, before shaking his head no. "You could have a concussion." he said softly, making sure his voice didn't hurt Dean's head more.

Dean glared at him, even as he shot him a grateful look for being quieter. "I'm fine... Just need sleep." he insisted, gagging again under his breath.

Mary caught this gag, and shoved the bucket into his lap, shaking her head no. "Nope, you're too sick to sleep. Gagging means vomiting, and blows to the head mean concussions, so you're stuck with us." she said firmly, giving him her best mom knows best face.

"Really?!" Dean demanded flatly, gagging on his own breath, before having to stop and retch into the bucket much to his own chagrin. "I'm fine, I am not sick. I am perfectly fine." he said, leaning over the bucket, bringing up a small amount of blood and saliva.

"Blood?" Sam asked in concern, walking over and looking at the blood dripping from his older brother's lips.

"He's fine, Sam, he just got banged up. Has he been eating?" Mary asked in concern, knowing that drinking on an empty stomach led to vomiting blood sometimes happened, because the alcohol burned the stomach lining.

"Not really, mainly drinking, like usually." Sam said, earning a glare from Dean, who hiccuped and brought up more blood and a lot of alcohol.

"Once he is down getting the alcohol out of his system, he should be okay." Mary said, remembering the one time she had nursed John through the same thing.

Dean brought up a lot more alcohol, and some blood, before giving up. "M... mom, my head really does hurt." he admitted, finally admitting that he wanted her help, as Sam gave him an aww face. He glared at Sam, making the younger man chuckle, before he snagged the bucket to wash it out and return it to Dean.

Mary kissed her eldest's forehead lightly, relieved she didn't feel any fever brewing under his skin. "Lean back for me, when you aren't going to vomit." she said gently, as he did as she requested, leaning back in his seat.

Dean groaned softly, knowing all he really needed was a nap and some Advil or Tylenol, but he had a feeling the meds would just reappear.

Mary started on his neck and worked up to his temples, massaging lightly into his tight and tender muscles. She could feel how tense he was, and hated it, wishing she could take it away from him with something as simple as a hug.

"Slow deep breaths for me," she encouraged, as she felt him gag suddenly.

"I can't," Dean said honestly, sitting forward rapidly and vomiting into the bucket violently. He panted hard, feeling Mary's soft hands on his back, a stark difference to Sam's hands when he usually was sick.

"Just breathe, Dean, you're okay." Mary encouraged, feeling his body relax finally, as he rested his head against the table nearby.

Dean sighed softly, dozing off almost instantly, as the table felt cool against his skin.

"No sleeping, Dean." Sam admonished gently, waking Dean up, causing the man to sit up with a groan.

"I'm awake..." Dean said in an exhausted voice, leaning back in his seat, as Mary started massaging again. He moaned softly, his eyes drifting closed as she accidentally pulled at his cut, jerking him back to reality quickly, with a growl of pain.

"I'm sorry, I know that hurt, I didn't mean to hit it. You okay?" Mary asked gently, moving back to his temples.

Dean growled in frustration, as the pull on his cut had woken his headache back up. "You woke up my headache..." he whined. "It was gone." he complained, not caring if they listened to him or not.

"Maybe we should let him sleep it off, he'll be more agreeable." Sam suggested.

Dean growled softly under his breath. "I can hear you." He grumbled in annoyance.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's behavior, before looking at Mary who was smiling at Dean as if he could do no wrong.

"Naptime for Dean." Mary said in a sing songy voice, earning an amused look from Sam, and a glare from Dean.

"I'm not a little kid. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Dean snapped, getting up unsteadily, and stomping off to his room to head to bed.

Sam chuckled softly. "You realize, he isn't four anymore, right?" he asked in a thoughtful tone.

"I know, Sam. But I miss that age. I missed both of you growing up, I missed so much." Mary said sadly, looking at the empty seat that Dean had been in moments before.

"We missed you too, Mom." Sam said genuinely, knowing deep down that Dean was just hurt.

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Sam and Mary didn't know Dean was listening to this little heart to heart, and was wracked with guilt from it, it took everything not to break his ruse and go embrace his mom. But he wasn't ready, not yet. 

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