"Megan, wake up." My shoulders shook underneath someone's warm hands, and I groaned, flinching away and burying myself deeper underneath my thin blanket. Though the backseat of the '67 Impala, Dean's most prized possession and the love of his life, wasn't all that comfortable, it was still better to be sleeping on it than not sleeping at all.
"Megan." His voice became firmer, and he pulled my ankles so I was halfway out of the car, leaning over me. "We're going into the motel."
I imagined that his goal in pulling my legs out of the car was so that I would sit up, but instead I just pulled them to me again, tightening into a ball and covering my face with the blanket. "If you want me to get out of the car, you're gunna have to carry me."
"Don't think I won't." He loosened my legs and hooked his arm under my knees, ready to pull me out of the car wedding-style, and I jumped away, nearly hitting my head on the top. His answering smirk was just visible before he turned away to glance at Sam, who was walking towards the front office, and then he looked back at me. "Come on, there are actual beds in the room."
That was enough to make me start moving again, and I slid across the seat, standing up on the pavement with stiff legs. I balled up the blanket and tucked it underneath my arm, letting Dean close my door for me and give me a once-over.
"Like what you see?" I teased groggily, rubbing my eyes. It didn't take long for Sam to come back with the room key, and we went in routinely, one of us calling the front desk so they'd have room service send down a cot while the others brought in the one bag of clothes we had and Sam's laptop case. Instead of sleeping like a normal person, he flipped it open, scrolling through online archives of the newspapers in the area. I didn't have the energy to question him out loud, though thinking was a different story. Why was he looking for a hunt in town if we had already come here with one in mind?
I didn't wait for the cot to get to the room since it wasn't my turn, falling into one of the queen beds and tucking myself underneath the covers. I just caught a glimpse of the clock next to the bed reading 4:21 before falling back into oblivion.
They just couldn't let me keep sleeping until I wasn't tired.
"Meeggaann," Sam jeered, and I rolled my closed eyes. He knew I hated being woken up like that. I pretended to be undisturbed, not moving.
"Yeah, like that's going to work." Dean was the one that had spoken then, and I braced myself mentally, knowing the lengths he would go to to get me out of bed when I didn't want to. He shook my shoulders again like he had in the car last night, and I lifted a weak hand to slap his away, letting it fall to my side when I decided it wasn't working.
"We're going on a hunt." He said it like it was as important as Jesus returning to earth, nudging me sharply. "Get up."
"What time is it?" I groaned, turning onto my stomach and putting the pillow over my head. I heard him say eight-something and groaned again. Four hours of sleep, that was all. No way was I going to get up without a fight, if at all.
Dean didn't speak again, but I knew he was going to do something, so I wasn't that surprised when my blankets were ripped off of me and dropped to the floor. It was still freezing, though, and I grabbed my extra pillow, putting it over my bare legs. Sleeping in shorts had its perks during the summertime, but this was not one of them.
Dean said something quietly to Sam, who I just barely heard get up and cross the room. I was curious to know if it had anything to do with some violent way of waking me up, but was more interested in falling back asleep. Eight in the morning was an unseen time for me, unless we had been working all night and it took a while to get back to the motel. Other than that, I was always sleeping through it, and this wasn't going to change anything.
Before I could understand what was happening, Dean swept me off the bed by my waist, the pillows falling off of me and onto the bed. I squirmed and flailed, knowing full well that if I was awake I had a chance at getting away. Half-asleep and freezing, though, I was no match for him. "Put me down!" I shrieked, kicking him in whatever places I could manage and still not loosening his hold. Sam came out of the bathroom as soon as we went into it, grinning. I heard the shower and realized he'd turned it on just as Dean threw me into it.
I screamed. The water wasn't even warm, and it just reinforced how cold I was, soaking through my thin shorts and tank top quickly so I was chilled to my bones. I scrambled out onto the bathroom floor and ripped the towel off the towel bar, but Dean took it away from me, dangling it high above my reach.
"I wouldn't," he warned. "You have to use this for your shower, so if I were you, I'd keep it dry."
"I'm gunna kill you," I growled, standing up and slipping on the water that covered the floor. I was wide awake now, lunging forward before I could hurt myself and just missing him as he moved out of my way. I slid into the bathroom door and grabbed onto the handle to keep from falling to the floor again.
When I was off of the drenched floor and onto the carpet, I considered attacking him, but thought better of it and just stormed past to my clothes. After grabbing everything I needed to shower, I yanked the towel out of Dean's hand, giving him the deadliest glare I could manage and then giving the same one to Sam. "Hey, Megan, is it cold in here?" Dean asked me as I started to turn away, and I blushed angrily, wrapping my arms around my chest tightly. Just before I slammed the bathroom door, I heard Sam mumble "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."
I took a lot of extra time in the shower that I wouldn't have normally, hoping I was throwing them off their schedule for whatever we had planned for today. Daytime hunts were normally reserved for vampires, and I wondered half-heartedly if they were going to be the ones that had killed my family three years ago. I knew they wouldn't be, though. We hadn't seen them or heard of them since, and I'd put a lot of effort into tracking them down, too. The flashback I'd dreamed about this morning flashed through my mind as I thought about them, and my hope strengthened. Maybe.
As I was rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I heard the door open and froze. What was I going to do if I was attacked in the shower?
"Hey, sorry, I'm just brushing my teeth," came Dean's smug voice from dangerously close to the shower curtain, and I grabbed both sides of it tightly so he wouldn't open it. It was stupid of me to have been scared of a random attack. Dean and Sam knew no bounds when it came to torturing me.
"You better hurry up," I warned angrily, holding the shower curtain still. Not that my strength was going to stop him from ripping it open, but I was trusting him at the moment.
He chuckled and then the sound of the sink water running silenced him, and I waited impatiently for him to finish, sighing in immense relief when the door opened and closed. I listened as well as I could, though, knowing him well enough that he probably wouldn't be gone if I checked to see.
When it had been well over thirty seconds, I slowly peeked around the curtain, jumping when Dean popped out in my periphery. "Dammit, Dean, get outta here!" I shouted, splashing as much water at him as I could while watching him leave.
