Sam jumps and curls in tight at the sharp sound - something falling, or something hitting something else, something he’s too tired to identify - bu he can hear Dean shifting around, so he’s already heading back towards sleep when his brother pokes at him, saying something about Dad, and Sam pokes his head out from under the covers that he’s sure have multiplied since he fell asleep (or maybe they just seem deeper now that he’s trying to figure out how to get out of them and trying to talk himself into doing it).
“Nnphfn?”
The knock at the door makes him jump - again. He’s getting really tired of jumping, of being so on-edge that everything makes him jump. He’s tired in general, though, honestly, and even though he’s trying, sitting up and shoving himself back against the headboard of the bed again, because holding himself upright is still sort of difficult. (He can’t wait until he’s back to normal again, until he can do normal things like sit and stand and think without feeling like his brain is completely fogged over, like his muscles are noodles or something, until he can stop feeling like there’s a psycho standing just over his shoulder watching him, waiting to grab him away again.)