Sam had forgotten that he wasn't sleeping on his own couch, attempting to stifle the sounds of Dean's snoring with his pillow. At least until he felt the sharp pain rise in his shoulder, which then triggered the memories of the prior evening back into his mind. Hunting, with Heather. Not intentional, but she was there and he couldn't get rid of her. Then he got his ass handed to him by that pissed off ghost, he screwed up his arm, and he got too dizzy to drive back to the hotel so Heather let him crash on her couch. And now he was here, waking up the morning after, with an agonizingly painful ache in his shoulder and a sudden hunger rising in his stomach. It seemed near invisible compared to the pain he felt though, so Sam didn't really notice it until after he'd picked up his clothes from the floor and trudged into her bathroom. Changing into the black sweatpants with a bit of a struggle, Sam then attempted to throw a t-shirt over his head and, with a lot of effort, managed as much. Then he placed his other clothes back under the table where he'd left them and ventured off into the kitchen, stomach rumbling and shoulder aching all at once.
Heather wasn't awake. He noticed that after taking a seat at the table. He sat there for a while, quietly thinking over the prior evening, when he suddenly remembered that he had planned on making them breakfast. After a quick trip to the store, he was at the counter, mixing pancake batter together and throwing them onto the frying pan that he'd found in one of Heather's cabinets. He was nearly finished when he heard Heather's voice from the other room.
"I'm in here," he called out, tossing the last pancake onto the stack he had already made and flipping the stove off as he spoke.