Chapter 10: How to Fail at Stopping the Apocalypse

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The parking lot of the Louisville motel was quite empty at 3:02 in the morning. At 3:03, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala screamed into the lot, followed by a dark red 1965 Ford Mustang. Rock music throbbed quietly from the Impala's speakers, and the characteristic purr of the engine putted to a stop as it flew into a parking spot. The Mustang was directly behind it, its growl quieting slowly as its driver parked carefully in the spot next to the Impala.

Four people came out of the two cars. Two men came from the Impala, two women from the Mustang. They exchanged a few loud remarks before heading to the door of the motel to check in a room.

The patrons of the only occupied room groaned at them to quiet down as they jingled open the front door, cheerfully greeting the tired and grumpy concierge at the front desk.

"Dibs the bed closest to the window!" Mallory slurred loudly, hyper from the energy drink she had earlier. "And the other bed, and the floor," she laughed and wobbled slightly. "Just kidding, you two can take the beds. I'll sleep on the floor. I can handle it!" Stuffing the key inside the door handle, she hobbled inside, collapsed on the nearest bed, and started snoring.

"Note to self: Never give Mallory energy drinks." Dean muttered, tossing his key onto the table and sliding his duffel bag off his back. He and Sam stuck their fists out and rock-paper-scissored, and Sam won the other remaining bed. Gently, he shoved Mallory over so she was completely lying on the bed and not half-off like she was before, and moved around to place his things on the other bed.

Reyna appeared cross-legged on the bed right beside Sam, and he recoiled before hissing, "Don't do that!"

"Why not?" She asked good-naturedly, leaning back on her hands. "Anyway, I figured that you three would've gotten a room by now. Here, I got some Advil for Mallory when she wakes up." She held out a bottle of pills and placed them on the table between the two beds. After watching Dean step into the bathroom, she stood up and walked over to Mallory, gently placing her hand on her forehead. "Y'know, I should've told you that Mallory doesn't handle energy drinks well. She's fine for about an hour, then she starts to... go wonky, and then she crashes. Real hard."

Sam threw his shirt down onto the bed. "You're hiding something." Turning to look Reyna in the eyes, he crossed his arms. "You've known her for a while. How long?"

Reyna sighed, running her hands through her long brown hair, which was surprisingly out of its ponytail. "Since the vampires," she replied exasperatedly. "We're good friends. How'd you guess?"

"Well, you were giggling like old friends when she was teasing you in the house, then you two formulated genius plans for the road competition, then you were saying about her friends and what they call her. Nobody who just met someone knows all her friend's names and what they call her. I mean, really. You could have been more careful."

"Fine, but don't tell Mal. Or Dean, unless you really have to." Reyna turned back to Mallory, pulling the covers out from underneath her and replacing them so Mallory was tucked inside the covers. "See ya in the morning." She patted Mallory's head and disappeared. Dean came out of the bathroom not a second later, rubbing his face with his hands. Seeing Sam's angry face, he stopped.

"What?"

"Reyna." Was the only explanation, and it was the only explanation Dean needed. He nodded and sat onto the floor, where he had laid out his little bed-quarters. They both fell asleep at approximately 3:38.

Sam and Mallory both woke up, groaning at Dean's happy shouting of "Rise and shine, sasquatches! Today's the day! The day we stop the apocalypse! Again!"

Mallory mumbled something about sleeping in, then groaned and sat up slowly, rubbing her head with a pained look. Sam tossed her the bottle of pills and she almost caught it, the bottle hitting her in the chest. "Did I have an energy drink last night?" They nodded, and she closed her eyes and sighed. "Don't ever let me have one of those. Ever. I tried one once and was out the whole day after. Sorry if I'm not at my best today." She stumbled off the bed, steadied herself on the side table, and looked at Dean. "Sorry for making you have to sleep on the floor. I just kinda went towards the first soft spot I could see that I could crash on." He waved it off, checking the load on his shotgun before stuffing it into his bag.

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