When Dean entered the kitchen at 3am, Sam sat at the table, huddled over a cup of coffee. Looking up at his brother, he said, "You, too?"

Dean didn't answer, just grunted. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. Sitting down beside Sam, he poured a large dollop of whiskey into both their cups. "You know the best part of a nightmare?" he asked abruptly.

Sam shook his head.

Dean's smile was grim. "When you wake up and realize it was just a fucking dream."