You pack your bags with a mix of excitement and trepidation, knowing that camping with the Winchester brothers is bound to be an adventure unlike any other. As you load up the Impala and hit the road, anticipation bubbles in your chest, mingling with a healthy dose of nerves.

When you arrive at the campsite, the brothers are already setting up tents and starting a fire, their easy camaraderie filling the air with warmth and laughter. Dean claps you on the back with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he hands you a bundle of firewood.

"Welcome to Winchester camping," he declares, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Where we hunt monsters by day and roast marshmallows by night."

You chuckle at his antics, feeling a sense of camaraderie settling over you as you join in the preparations. Sam offers you a hand with pitching your tent, his gentle smile putting you at ease as you work together to get everything set up. As the night settles in and the fire crackles softly, casting flickering shadows across the campsite, you reach for the sleeping bags, preparing to settle in for the night. But then, as you count them out, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

"Hey, uh, guys," you begin tentatively, holding up the two sleeping bags for their inspection. "I think we might have a problem."

Dean's brow furrows in confusion as he takes in the scene before him, his eyes darting between you and the sleeping bags. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words to explain the predicament. "There are only two sleeping bags," you admit reluctantly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. "We're one short."

Sam's eyes widen in realization as he takes in the situation, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Oops," he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Guess we didn't think that through."

Dean lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he surveys the campsite. "Well, this is just great."