Haunted {Dean Winchester 1}

Chapter 9

Phantom Traveler 

I groan, wrapping my arm around whatever was moving and pulling it back to me. Can't I sleep in peace? 

"Morning, Sunshine." Sam's voice floated through the room. 

I blink, opening my eyes to see that what had woken me up was Dean Winchester. How the hell we ended up in bed together--completely clothed, might I add--was lost on me. 

Okay, well, we were mostly clothed. 

"What time is it?" Dean asked as I released his arm, rolling over onto my other side to put some space between us. 

"Uh, around 5:45." Sam answered. 

"In the morning?" Dean asked. 

"Yeah."

"Where does the day go?" Dean muttered to himself, propping himself up on one elbow and rolling to one side. And closer to me. "You sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours."

"You lair." Dean moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "'Cause I was up at three and you were watching George Foreman informercials."

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV."

"I don't remember that." I roll back over to my right side, tugging my shirt down a little. 

"That's because you, my wonderful little bed stealing hitchhiker, were out like a light at one a.m." Dean smiled at me. 

"I didn't steal bed and I am not a hitchhiker. For the last time, you picked me up." I reach out to shove his arm, smiling a little. 

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" Dean asked, turning back to Sam. 

"It's been a little while, I guess. But it's not a big deal." Sam shrugged. 

"Yeah, it is."

Sam laughed a little. "Look, I appreciate your concern--"

"Oh, I'm not concerned. It's your job to keep my ass alive. So I need you sharp." Dean cut him off.

"I thought that was Saige's job."

"Nah, her job is to steal my bed and feed me." Dean joked. 

"You are the epitome of insufferable." I tell Dean. "Do you know that?"

Dean shot me a 'yeah, right' look. "Seriously, you still havin' nightmares about Jess?" he asked Sam. 

Sam sighed, moving to sit on the opposite bed, facing Dean. "Yeah." he admitted. Sam held out two cups of coffee to Dean. "But it's not just her, it's everything."

Dean held one out to me, and I took it. 

"I just forgot, you know, this job. Man, it gets to you." Sam continued.

"Well, you can't let it." Dean shrugged. "You can't bring it home like that."

"It's not that easy sometimes." I push myself up into a sitting position, tucking my legs underneath of me, knees sinking into the soft mattress. 

"So, what, all this, it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked Dean. 

Dean shook his head.

"Never? You're never afraid?" Sam asked.

"No, not really." 

I look over at Dean. I admired him for his fearlessness. Or, if he were lying, his ability to hide it.

Sam leaned over, pulling a large knife from under Dean's pillow. 

"That's no fear." Dean reached over, grabbing his weapon. "That is precaution."