Meet the Winchesters

Phantom Traveler

Trigger Warning!: past physical and mental abuse mentioned, section will be marked with an asterisk at the beginning and the end.

Sam had woken you up when he left to go get breakfast at 5 in the morning so you got up from your spot on the floor and got on his empty bed, you were in the middle of a very pleasant dream, when you hear the door bang open. You groan and put the pillow over your head, that means Sam is back and it's time to get up.

"Morning, sunshine," Sam says, happily. You groan again, you hear someone chuckle.

"What time is it?" asks Dean, you here the bed creaking.

"Uh, it's about 5:45," Sam replies, you hear him place something down.

"In the morning?" Dean asks.

"Yep."

"Where does the day go?" the pillow is pulled from your hands and you are now staring up at your older brother, bed head and all.

"Give it back!" you whine.

"Nope," Dean smiles and walks away, "Did you get any sleep last night, Sam?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours," Sam replies.

You sit up, "Liar, I got up to go to the bathroom at like 3 and you were watching infomercials."

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV," Sam replies, smiling slightly. You snort at the prospect of infomercials actually being good.

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" Dean asks.

"I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal," Sam replies.

You get up from the bed and walk over to the small table were Sam had set the food and coffee. You grab a pastry and a cup of cup, "Yeah, it kind of is."

"Look, I appreciate your concern, both of you..." Sam starts.

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep out asses alive, so we need you sharp," Dean says.

Sam shrugs, you ask Sam a question, you voice much softer then it had been before, "Are you having nightmares about Jess?"

Sam crosses the room, and sits on the bed you had previously been occupying, handing Dean a coffee, "Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that," Dean takes a sip of his coffee.

"So, what? All this...it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asks. Dean shakes his head, "Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really," Dean replies. Sam reaches under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife and he holds it up as evidence, "That's not fear. That is precaution."

"All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue," Sam sighs. Dean's phone chose that moment to ring, Dean picks it up answering it. You ignore the conversation, focusing on Sam.

You walk over, "Sam, remember, that's just Dean's opinion, I, on the other hand bring home what happens a lot. Someone dies because I didn't stop it, one restless night of sleep. Two people die, no sleep, just planning. Dean hates when I do that, he gives me the same little sepal. Dean just likes to be a tough, no scaredy cat kind of guy, I on the other hand, think no fears or no planning in bad for you. Hell, I'm afraid of clowns, and spiders. But I am not afraid to admit that."

Sam nods his head, "Yeah, thanks (Y/N)."

"No problem," you pat him on the back, "But do as all a favor and get more sleep, please."