"Dammit, of course the only time Sammy gets laid is with a damn monster."

Dean rakes his hand through his hair as he drives, speeding towards the motel room where he assumed Sam and the siren were hooking up. He was all for Sam living a little but Jesus his brother had shit luck.

"Try callin' him again, darlin'."

Dean asks you, patting your thigh. You pick your phone up, dialing Sam's number for the sixth time in the last half hour.

"Voicemail."

You sigh, shutting your flip-phone again. Dean groans, his hand squeezing your thigh a bit harder as he drives even faster.

"Dammit, Sammy…"

He murmurs under his breath, focusing on the road.