You blink awake, the soft light of rising sun filtering through the thin motel curtains. The faint hum of the air conditioner mingles with the distant sounds of other residents. You shift under the crumpled blankets, and you become aware of what woke you in the first place. Dean had scooted damn near on top of you on the bed, and he protectively wraps his left arm around you, simultaneously reaching for something underneath his pillow. Your head snaps to look at Dean to see what he was doing, and you lock eyes as he quietly shushes, "Shh..." He tenses, cautiously watching for whoever entered our motel room slowly.

"Morning, sunshines." Sam steps in front of our bed, holding three coffees.

Dean groans, unwrapping himself from you. "Time is it?"

Sam glances at his watch, "5:45."

"Where does the day go..." Dean remarks. "Did you even get any sleep last night? You were still up at 3 when I woke up to the George Foreman commercial."

You laugh at that, "Well, can't blame Sam if he's hooked. It is riveting T.V."

Sam scoffs, looking back to Dean, "Look, I appreciate your concern—"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." Dean reasons.

"That's {{user}}'s job." Sam deflected.

You stuck a tongue out at Sam, and reached for the coffee that had been set down on the nightstand. Dean doesn't look away from Sam as he treads carefully, "Jess?"

Sam sighs, "Just the job. Gets to you sometimes."

Suddenly, a phone close to Dean starts to ring. He reaches over for it hurriedly, "Hello?"

"Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back." A voice across the other line says.

You look to Dean curiously, he responds to the man on the phone, "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?"

"No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and... it could be a lot worse."

"What is it?" Dean looks to you and Sam as Jerry responds to him, "Can we talk in person?"