insanity ➳ multiverse

one.

Chapter 1 - "Checking In"

Sam and Dean Winchester stood in front of the Hotel Cortez, each of them holding their own suitcase. Dean took a look at his watch, realizing it was much too early in the morning for this.

Reaching the entrance, the brothers hesitated, Sam's hand hanging limply in the air between them and the front door. Sam wondered if this was how his father had arrived: jet lagged, curious and in serious need of a drink.

Despite their many differences, Sam was beginning to understand that his father and him did share one thing in common; they both had secrets. John Winchester hadn't ever been bothered with his sons' private affairs, but Sam and Dean on the other hand, found themselves quite interested in their father's confidential matters.

Their father had disappeared some time ago causing the brothers to travel from Jericho, where he had been investigating the disappearances of young men that had gone back ten years, to upstate New York, where a man and woman were found dead in a locked house, the latest in a series of murders over a number of decades in the same area according to research from their dad's journal.

Despite it all, everything came back to this one hotel: The Cortez, built in 1930s Los Angeles, California. The rest of his father's secrets were buried within these walls, just begging to be wrung out.

The siblings entered, the glossy floors squeaking against their shoes as they walked down the main strip of the lobby. The check-in counter was on the opposite end of the hotel; a short and broad, practically dressed, sixtyish woman who wore very large corrective glasses was manning the desk, her eyes cast down at a crossword puzzle. The boys walked up to her, resting a hand on the counter and waiting for the woman to greet them. She didn't seem to notice they were there, her head still tilted downward at the crossword in front of her.

Dean cleared his throat, hoping that would get her attention but she remained motionless.

"Hello?" Dean said in a low voice, cocking his head to the side, trying to catch her eye. Still nothing. Sam saw a bell to his left; he reached and gave it a quick tap. The room erupted in a high-pitched ring, bouncing off the walls and back to them. The lady was now looking up, eyes dull and bored.

"Yes?" She said. The amplified ring had calmed drastically, so now it was only humming like a cats purr. "May I help you?"

"Yes." Dean said, flashing the woman a charming smile, "I'm Special Agent Clapton and this is my partner, Special Agent Page." Him and Sam flipped their badges open for her to check. "We're from the FBI, looking into the Ten Commandments Killer."

She squinted her eyes at this new information, like she didn't quite believe him.

"We'd like a room, please." Sam spoke up, running a hand through his hair and sliding his credit card her way.

"I have room 52 available." The lady said, already starting to reach for the key behind her. "Would it be possible for us to stay in room 64?" Dean asked, trying to get the room their father had stayed in. Sam noticed the way her mouth twitched at his request.

"Sorry." She said, "That room's under construction, but I can still put you in the same hallway if you'd like. Promise it will still be a worthwhile view."

He smiled back. "Sounds good."

"Room 61 it is." She said, handing him his room key. "Enjoy your stay."

That was it. No other information needed. Dean gave her a quick nod before both of the boys rounded the corner toward the elevator. Just before the doors closed he saw that the woman was still watching them, her eyes almost cat like against the chandelier lights.

Their hotel room smelled of mold and dust and something dreadful that Sam hoped he didn't find. "Sammy, you feeling okay?" Dean said, glancing at the grimace Sam was currently sporting.

"Yeah," Sam said, giving Dean a strange look as he slipped into bed, pulling the covers up around his waist. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking," Dean shrugged off-handedly, reaching up and switching off the light over his side of the bed. He shimmied down into the warmth of the comforter and closed his eyes. "It's my job to look after you, right?"

Sam was quiet for a long moment, his eyes narrowed contemplatively, then reaching up and switching off his own light, settling down under the covers with a soft sigh.

Minutes ticked by, sleep evading Dean. Beside him, Sam fidgeted and turned and fought with his pillow until nearly an hour had passed and Dean couldn't take it any longer. "Would you settle down? How am I supposed to get my beauty sleep with you flailing all over the place?"

"Shut up, jerk."

"Make me, bitch."