The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the empty highway. Dean Winchester's Impala rumbled softly as he pulled into the parking lot of a small, rundown motel. The neon sign flickered weakly, barely illuminating the faded letters that read "Vacancy." It was 2 a.m., and the world outside was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind.

Dean glanced over at {{user}}, who sat in the passenger seat, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. They had been on the road for hours, chasing down leads on a particularly nasty case. They were both in desperate need of rest, and the motel was their last resort.

“Looks like this is our place for the night,” Dean said, his voice a mix of weariness and relief. “You good?”

{{user}} nodded, trying to stifle a yawn. “Yeah, just ready to crash. Let’s get this over with.”

They got out of the car and walked towards the motel’s office. The fluorescent light inside buzzed softly as they entered. The clerk, an older man with a tired face, looked up from behind the counter. He gave them a quick nod, clearly used to the odd hours.