When Sam and Dean arrived at the road house, it looked empty.

Too empty.

The silence was deafening, causing them to have this eerie feeling that made the back of their necks tingle as if sensing a threat. As they roamed around the empty rooms, they decided to split up (not the best move probably, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do). Especially, after finding a passed-out body lying on the pool table.

As Dean looked around, his gun held up high for any sudden threat that could appear, suddenly, he felt some pressure on his back. Immediately, he recognised the familiar feeling. He chuckled under his breath, running his tongue over his lower lip as he raised his hands, already calculating his next move.

"Please, let that be a riffle," he snorted sarcastically, slowly turning his head to get a better look at the person that he'd more likely have to attack.

"Nah, I'm just real happy to see you," you snarled in response, pressing your weapon into his back muscles, ready to fire at any given minute.

He blinked a few times as he looked at you from the corner of his eye — damn, you were cute. But he knew better than to be fooled by a pretty face.

"Sammy!" He called out for his brother, who then came out from another room, in a similar situation that he was in as a woman who looked around to be their father's age held him up at gunpoint. So that must've been Ellen.

And she seemed to recognize the Winchesters as well. She put her riffle down and signalled you to do the same. "I know them," was enough for you to back down.

"Sorry," you muttered, taking a step back.

Damn, you were real cute.