Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Eight

"Alright, we've got two rooms," Dean announced, coming back to the car from inside the motel. "One for us, and one for you," he said, handing me one of the keys.

I looked at it, holding it up in the air alongside the moon, thinking about a lot of things. "I wonder if they've announced my death yet. Do you think they'll write an obituary, or just a generic, 'hey, she's dead' type of thing?"

Dean shrugged, getting his and his brother's stuff out of the trunk. "Tell you what, we'll find a computer first thing tomorrow morning and figure it out."

The car ride had warmed me up to him. Turned out, his music taste was actually pretty good, and we talked about that, much to Sam's displeasure. Bonded over it, really. He actually wasn't a bad guy. Full of himself and a total flirt, yeah, but nice enough when you got to know him.

Sam was still nicer, though, even if his taste in music was trash.

I grabbed my own stuff out of the trunk, closing it behind me. "Deal. Now. I'm off to try and get as much sleep as I can before—" I stopped myself just before saying it.

"The nightmares set in," Sam finished for me. "Are you going to tell me what it is you dream about?"

Remembering myself, I looked at him with a smirk. "Are you?"

We'd gotten to the door to their room then, and after a moment, he gestured for me to follow him inside. "Yes. But not out in the open."

I did as he bid, a bit surprised at how forthcoming he was being. When he closed the door behind us, I moved to sit down in the chair, him on the bed. Dean already knew what his brother was going to tell me, so he walked off to do something else.

He took a deep breath, bracing his hands on his knees. "My mom was murdered by some sort of creature when I was a baby. From what my dad and Dean have told me, he was in my nursery, and she tried to save me. So, he killed her. Held her up on the ceiling, and the moment my father walked in the room and saw her, she burst into flames. Well... a little while back, my girlfriend, Jess, was killed the same way. Now, every time I close my eyes... I see her."

I could hear the pain in his voice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Instinctively, I reached out, taking his hand to try to comfort him. He looked up at the contact, our eyes meeting.

My gaze searched his face, trying to find the words. "I'm sorry. I... I know sort of how you feel. My...." I took a deep breath, trying again. "My mom was k— she was killed in front of me, too. Only, I remember it," I joked halfheartedly, but it fell flat, even to my ears.

Sam squeezed my hand. "How did she die?"

I shook my head, looking away. "I— I can't—"

"It's okay," he reassured me, putting an end to a sentence that wasn't going anywhere, anyways. "You don't have to tell me. Not until you're ready."

I gave him a half-smile. "Thanks," I whispered, rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb.

He nodded. "You should probably head back to your room. Get some sleep."

"Alright," I responded, standing. "If you need me— if anything happens—"

"We know where to find you," Dean said, and I glanced over to see him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "And the same goes for you."

I took a deep breath in, smirking slightly. "I know."

I left their room then, making my way next door to mine. It was set up in largely the same way, but with one bed instead of two. I dropped my bag on the end of it, grabbing a pair of leggings, a loose t-shirt, and my toiletries. Then, I headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

I'd never been comfortable sleeping in actual sleepwear while I was a huntress. In strange places, surrounded by strange people, not to mention the supernatural— I always felt I needed to be ready to walk out the door at a moment's notice. So, I'd bought special clothes that fit the bill, but were also surprisingly comfortable.

I ran through the checklist. Brush teeth, brush hair, loose ponytail, wash face, change clothes. Go to bed, hope I could sleep at all.

But that night, my head was racing so fast as I got into bed that I doubted I'd be able to get any sleep, even without the nightmares.