habits, supernatural [ 1 ]

060. insomnia

The three get to their motel and Dean turns the light on, walking inside. Sam helps Larissa hop to the closest bed, helping her sit down.

"Still think you should've took the crutches." Sam comments.

"It's a sprained ankle, Sam." Larissa dismisses.

"Well, at least if you had crutches, you wouldn't be hopping around like a rabbit." Sam remarks making Larissa lightly roll her eyes. She scoots further up the bed and Sam quickly grabs a pillow, putting it under her sprained ankle to elevate it.

"Classified server? Got to be Devereaux, right?" Dean wonders, answering his phone. "Hello? Thank God. Frank... Frank, what do you got for me? Frank, you're breaking up."

Larissa watches Sam stand at the end of the bed and take a folder out of his bag and start to look through it. Sam presses down on his left palm.

"Hey." Larissa softly calls, getting Sam's attention. She holds her hand out and makes a grabby hand motion. Sam holds her hand and she comfortingly squeezes it.

Sam takes his hand away, continuing to go through the file.

"What do you mean you can't find him? It's Dick Roman. Turn on CNN. Didn't you see him at the, uh, press conference in Phoenix? The bastard's everywhere. You sure? No, I-I-I don't... I don't care that they've infiltrated the luxury boat industry, Frank. Great. Call Kanye." Dean hangs up.

"Frank's still stumped on Roman?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. All right, let's do this." Dean says.

"Okay, um, look at the victim profiles." Sam says, motioning to what he laid out. "Same age, same hair color, body type. The ritual mutilations line up exactly."

"Who down there would've let our demon out of the can? He squealed on his superiors. We made sure of that. I mean, he should be down under until, uh, trumpet day." Dean says.

"But two women killed in the last two weeks, same parts missing, I mean, same old hunting grounds, even." Sam says.

"All right, well, we can take a swing at it. But you know it's all about the leviathans now, okay? They're the ones we need to be hunting." Dean says.

"Yeah, but, I-I mean, not right now. This one's ours, Dean. It's unfinished business, apparently."

"All right."

"I can go with you." Larissa grins.

"Hm. No." Sam denies.

"Oh, come on." Larissa whines.

"Lissy, you sprained your ankle. You can't walk." Sam says.

"I can walk." She argues.

"Hopping isn't walking." Sam counters. "You're bedridden." Larissa rolls her eyes.

"Fine." Larissa relents. She mostly only stops arguing because she knows Sam has enough to handle with Lucifer in his head and she doesn't want them fighting since she knows he needs somebody.

"Thank you." Sam relaxes.

~ ~ ~

Larissa is lying in bed, waiting for Sam to get in. Dean is already asleep in the other bed, lightly snoring. Sam turns the bathroom light off as he walks out, going over to the bed and climbing in.

"You okay?" Larissa whispers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Sam says. He lies on his side so he can face her and starts to play with her hand.

"You're lying." Larissa says.

"You know, sometimes I really hate that you can read me so well." Sam says. Larissa scrunches her nose at him, a small smile on her face.