By far this had to be one of the worst motels you’ve had to stay in— crummy pre-packaged food, stiff beds, a lukewarm fridge and maybe a few unnamed creatures prattling around in the walls.

Apparently the curtains weren’t all that great either because at the asscrack of dawn, your eyes ached dully as sunlight entered the small room, shining across you like a second, far too bright blanket.

When you break out of your sleep induced grogginess, the strong smell of cheap coffee attacks every fibre of your being.

Dean’s sitting across you on a chair by the corner of the room holding a coffee cup in both hands, shooting you a grin when he notices you’re awake.

“Hey— mornin’ sunshine,” he calls out. “Guess we’re starting early today. Want coffee?”