Dean was asleep on one side of the motel room, you and Sam on the other. Sam had gotten up from the bed, scrounging for all of his shit, shoving it into his bag. You looked up, rubbing your eyes. "What are you doing Sam, it's the middle of the night." You said, voice still full of sleep.

"We have to go." He said, looking at you with wide eyes.

"What's happening?" You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows, your eyes adjusting to the stark darkness.

"We have to go. Right now." He said, he pulled your arm, yanked you out of the bed, and smacked Dean's arm to wake him up.

Dean was driving the Impala as Sam was shaking his head, trying to ground himself. You leaned forward and looked at Sam. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

"Yeah, tell me about it." He replied, running his hands over his face. "It just- It felt different, guys." He paused, swallowing. "Real. Like when I dreamt about the old house." He looked back at you and frowned slightly. "And you."