Please Remember Me

Chapter 1: Mornings are Great! Not.

"DEAN! WAKE UP ALREADY!"

Dean opened his eyes wearily. He could literally feel how messy his hair was. He can almost imagine it, the strands of dirty blonde hair sticking up. And that wasn't the only the thing sticking up at the moment.

"Dammit Sam! Can you give me one second to at least have the courage to get up? I mean c'mon, waking me up at like, what?"

Dean rised up from his twin sized bed using his right arm for support. He looked at the digital clock that sat besides the Bible left on the bedside table.

Haha, just what I need. Me up at 4:30am and a Bible just sitting there, mocking me.

"Dude, it's 4:30am! I'm not even supposed to be awake for another hour and a half!"

Sam was already dressed in his regular outfit: Plaid, with jeans and boots. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, which was across from the beds, and was brushing his teeth. He rolled his eyes at Dean and turned to spit in the dirty sink. He stood up straight, and his head almost hit the door frame, but he ducked just in time.

"With all that training from Dad, I would've thought that you learned that only the early bird catches the worm. And besides Dean, I got us a job."

Dean decided to ignore Sam with the Dad comment.

"First of all, there is so many things wrong with that sentence, I can hardly count them all," Dean pointed to Sam with a disgusted look.

"Well, maybe that's because you can't count over ten," Sam whispered and he grinned, already knowing his brother's reaction.

"Hey, I heard that! And might I remind you that it's fucking 4:30 outside? We could be sleeping right now!" Dean waved his hands toward the window to show that it was still dark outside. "And plus, I was having a good dream..."

"Let me guess, strippers and pie?" Sam looked, unamused, at Dean.

"Bingo! The best damn dream a man could ever wish for!" Dean slid his feet over the side of the bed and removed his shirt and threw it inside his bag, along with his other clothes and guns. He picked up a grey t-shirt and put it over his head and tugged it down.

"Oh shut up, and get ready!" Sam said walking out the door to pack up the impala. He opened the door and Dean could see that the sun was shining over the horizon.

"What does it look like I'm doing, bitch?!" Dean paused and waited for Sam to return the insult, his hands holding a flannel he was about to put on, then he heard a faint 'jerk' come from outside. He smiled and swung the flannel over him and put his arms through. Dean zipped up his duffel bag and sat it next to the tables and chairs. He entered the bathroom and looked in the cracked mirror. He stared at the cracks in the mirror and how it made his face disoriented and messed up.

What if this was all a dream? I mean it would be pretty cool, right? Dean shook his head in disbelief and scoffed at his ridiculous imagination. He was surprised he even had an imagination since it's been ruined so many times by so many people. He grabbed the blue toothbrush out of the red plastic cup beside the faucet, and unscrewed the cap to the toothpaste. He rose the toothbrush close to the opening of the the toothpaste. The toothpaste came out on the toothbrush and it was so minty that Dean's eyes watered a little bit. He quickly put the toothbrush in his mouth, wanting the watering to stop in his eyes. Dean packed up his toothbrush and toothpaste on the side of his duffel bag. He went back into the moldy bathroom to make sure he or Sam didn't forget anything. Sam sometimes forgot things and blamed Dean for it. Dean always denied it, even if it was actually him. Sam was such a nerd.

"Hey Dean! Almost ready in there? You're probably almost as bad as a teenage girl!"

Dean spun around, smiled, and replied,"Don't get your panties in a twist Sam! Perfection takes time!"

"Seriously? What do you have to do to get ready?" Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, regretting his question right when he asked it.

"Um well, there's this," Dean circled his finger around his head implying to his short hair," and also I gotta get dressed and have my teeth brushed! Man, you would've thought that you would take longer since you have the Justin Bieber hair goin' on there..."

Sam glared at Dean. "You're just jealous," Sam knew the comeback was lame, but at this point he just wanted to go on that hunt. Dean wrapped his leather jacket around himself, and smoothed his hair down. The duffel bag swung back and forth in his hand.

"What's taking you so long Lucy? Doing your makeup? You know we don't have time!" Dean smirked at Sam while he walked past him in the doorway, leaving Dean to shutting the door behind him. Dean watched Sam walk over to the Impala. He stood to outlook the parking lot of the motel.

"Don't you just love the mornings Sam?" Dean looked at Sam.

"Yeah, they're sure great," Sam pulled out the handle of the car and plopped down in the leather seat.

Oh how Dean loved to mess with his brother.