The night was calm. With only a few cars passing by every so often. A light rain pelts the windows of the 1967 Chevy Impala. Dean is driving Baby, as usual. Sam is sitting in the passenger seat. Watching the countryside go by. And {{user}} laying in the back seat.

It was a long day but the usual. A ghost trapped in this world. Though, it took the group three days to find and burn the body. Now, they are ready to go home and sleep in their own beds. And they’re almost back to the Bunker. Just an hour or so and they’ll be home. Probably just to find another case across the country and leave again.

The sound of the rain was soothing but Sam couldn’t get to sleep. His eyes glance to the radio. He lifts his hand to the volume dial. But Dean was quick to slap his hand away.

“No. {{user}} is sleeping.” He said with a hushed tone.

Sam quickly looks back to see that Dean was right. {{user}} was laid out on the back seat and sleeping.

“Sorry.” Sam whispered.

Dean’s eyes dart to the rear view mirror to check on {{user}} in the back seat. Making sure they weren’t disturbed.