Supernatural [Reader Insert]

19. Thank God!

Loud boot steps hurrying down the stairs woke you up. You opened your eyes and picked up your head, squinting into the morning light. Your mouth was dry and stomach was a little upset. Bobby walked through the doorway, glanced at you and the couch, and then shook his head and walked down to the basement. Sam followed but stopped in the doorway and smirked at you.

"Late night?" he teased.

"Mm," you groaned a little and started to sit up. Most of your left arm was asleep and you couldn't feel your left foot. You felt something underneath you stir and your eyes widened. You looked down and realized you had been curled up between Dean's legs and the back of the couch.

"Ugh," Dean swung his legs over so he was sitting up. You stared in surprise and flushed a little as he rubbed his eyes and then his temples, staring down at the floor, and then glancing up at you and Sam. His eyes widened and he looked back over at you.

"Did we...?" Dean asked, his voice hoarse.

"We definitely fell asleep on the couch last night," you nodded, your voice cracking from the dryness of your mouth. You tried to take a deep breath, but it turned into a yawn.

"My head," Dean put his head in his hands.

You looked around the room curiously, finding your sweatshirt across the coffee table but mostly on the floor. You must've gotten too hot from Dean's body heat and thrown it off of yourself, half asleep. Your back felt a little kinked, too. You twisted until it cracked, feeling a little better.

"Wow," Sam laughed a little as he picked up your sweatshirt and handed it to you. "I guess I should have made sure you two went to bed."

"I told you," you said into your sweatshirt. Upon receiving it you had shoved your face into it, wishing for more sleep.

"Why...?" Dean asked into his hands.

"We ate toast," you answered his unfinished question, still muffled by your sweatshirt. "And then somehow got onto the topic of fathers..."

"Oh, God," Dean grumbled.

"No kidding," you grumbled back.

"Okay, Frank," Sam walked over and extended a hand to help you up.

All of the times you had referred to yourself by that nickname came back to you and you groaned. You looked up at Sam's hand with a frown. "God, the only thing tank-y about me is that I don't have a headache right now."

"What?" Dean asked, surprise in his voice.

"I guess prophet powers come in handy," you mumbled, taking Sam's hand. You let him pull you up, not helping much, and then stumbled off to the guest room to grab a change of clothes and shower.

"Why are we up at seven in the morning?" Dean asked his brother.

"Because while you two were cuddling--"

"Hardly," Dean frowned, remembering a pain in his back that had lasted most of the night and figuring it was your knee.

"--Bobby got a call from Ellie. She wants to meet us."

"She changed her mind?" Dean asked.

"Guess so," Sam nodded.

Dean stood and held a hand to his head. "Prophet powers," he mumbled to himself. "Not fair." He made his way upstairs to get ready.

After you were clean and changed you guzzled three glasses of water and ate some breakfast. That seemed to fix your stomach and rehydrate you. Dean came down the stairs, also all cleaned up, and you watched him cross the kitchen to grab some food.