Up and at ‘em.

You had shot out of bed at four in the morning, running on maybe an hour or two of sleep. You couldn’t sleep. Not now. This hunt was making you anxious and you were itching for action.

You did stop to feel a little guilty when your hustle and bustle awoke a very disgruntled and grumpy Dean on the motel bed. His head lifts from the pillow only enough to shoot you a dirty look over his shoulder.

“Man…” He sighs, expression scrunching like you personally offended him, “Do I gotta sell my soul for some beauty sleep ‘round here?”

He rolls back onto his stomach smushing his scrunched face back into his pillow with a long heaving sigh.

Then he rolls out of bed, unable to just go back to sleep. He rubs at his jaw, over his slight stubble. Scruffy and disheveled.

“Didn’t take you for a morning person…” He yawns and rolls his shoulders back with a couple pops of his joints.