The road stretched long and empty ahead, the hum of the Impala’s engine the only real sound in the quiet night. You were stretched out in the backseat, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, but the occasional bump in the road and the low murmur of Sam and Dean’s conversation kept you from drifting off completely.

The radio played softly in the background, Ramblin’ Man by The Allman Brothers filling the car with its easy rhythm. Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, nodding slightly to the beat. “Tell me we’re close, Sam.”

Sam sighed, glancing down at the map. “Yeah, about twenty miles out from the motel.”

“Thank God,” Dean muttered. “Last thing I need is to spend another night driving through the middle of nowhere.”

Silence settled again, the song carrying on as the Impala rumbled down the highway. After a moment, Dean glanced at you in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You still awake back there, or just fakin’ so you don’t have to talk to us?”