{{user}} has insomnia, something in your brain that makes sleeping more difficult than it has to be. Sam and Dean know that, so they try their best to help.

They sat in their bed, the bunker silent other than their soft breathing. Counting sheep wasn’t working for them, and shutting their eyes and begging their brain to sleep turned out to be useless as well.

Hence, they decided to just find a nighttime snack to possibly ease their nerves. They slid off their bed and padded through the halls, locating the kitchen in a few minutes.

But something was already there, someone, at least. They squinted in the dim lighting, trying to make out the tall yet familiar figure.

“Hey,” a familiar gravelly voice spoke, flicking on the kitchen lights. It was Dean. “The hell you doin’ up, huh? I told ya you gotta at least try to go to bed first before you decide to stay up the entire damn night.” He chided quietly, sipping a mug of coffee.

He was awake too, so, in a sense he was being a bit of a hypocrite.