Rewrite Of Supernatural Series: Season 1.

Phantom Traveler - Part 1.

You tried to be as quiet as you could. You had talked to the receptionist and found out that Sam and Dean were residing in room five-o-five. Breaking into it, you shut the door behind you quietly. A translucent glass blocked the view of the room.

You went around it to find the brothers sleeping on their respective beds. They looked exhausted. Sam tossed and turned in his sleep, a nightmare plaguing him. You would have woken him up, had you not known how much he needed even those couple of minutes.

You sighed, throwing your bag on the couch, feeling absolutely drained. You needed a shower and you needed sleep. Yeah, sleep. It was that bad.

Dragging yourself to the bathroom, you took a quick cold shower. You didn't care about the temperature, you just wanted the dirt and blood from your skin to wash off. The blood turned pink in color as it flowed down the drain. With it, the memories of tonight washing away into the back of your mind, you probably won't remember this small hunt ever again.

You grabbed one of the two towels. You figured that the one thrown beside the sink would be Dean's because Sam always hung his behind the door. You wrapped Dean's towel around you and exited the chilly restroom.

Outside was even colder. You shivered, the droplets racing down your skin. Hurrying to your duffel bag, you hastily opened it - only to have the zipper break. 'Come on,' you groaned under your breath.

'Y/N?' a raspy voice said. The voice was hot. You turned in your spot to see Dean squinting his eyes to look at you. The narrow strip of light from the bathroom that fell on his face and bed hair had you clenching your thighs together.

You cleared your throat, 'Dean. What're you doing awake?'

'I . . . the noise . . . ' he paused, 'why are you in a towel?'

You smirked at him, but a small blush made its way up your cheeks nonetheless. You were glad Dean couldn't see your face in the dark.

'Like what you see?'

'Uhm,' he cleared his throat, his eyes slightly wide.

'I was changing,' I told him when he didn't respond.

'Right,' he cleared his throat again, biting his lip slightly. 'Sorry.'

He didn't sound sorry. He rolled on his bed so that he could give you privacy. You got back to the matter at your hands.

Your knives were inside your duffel and the rest of the weapons were in the trunk of Baby, so, it wasn't like you could tear open your duffel. Not now anyway. You felt frustrated, letting down your hair from your messy bun, you started rummaging through Dean's bag. You could feel pieces of paper in it, but you couldn't read them in the limited lighting. Plus, all you wanted to do was sleep right now.

You pulled out one of his black tops and a pair of your underwear from his bag. His top was so huge, you could cry. You slipped those on, the fact that the shirt reached your mid-thigh, made you want to hit Dean for being so tall. You took a deep breath, his scent was intoxicating, a mix of gun powder and apples. It was a heady sensation.

When you were done, you glared at the couch. It was crowded with the duffel bags of you three and food wrappers that boys had thrown here. You couldn't sleep there. You glared at the Winchesters next, wondering if you would be able to fit yourselves with any of those giants.

Since you were wearing Dean's clothes, you decided to climb into his bed. It had nothing to do with the fact that you liked him. Or the fact that sleeping in Sam's bed would feel slightly disgusting. Not that he wasn't hot, he was. God knows he had great looks. But, you just couldn't do that to yourself or him. He was your brother.