"Dean?… Dean? NO!" Sam jumped and caught his breath while looking all around not recognizing where he was. All he could hear was the sound of his brother laughing.
"Aww, Sammy, having more dreams about me, huh?" Dean sarcastically exclaimed nudging him in the arm. "Cute,"
Sam rolled his eyes and looked out the passenger side window of the Impala. "Shut up, Dean; don't flatter yourself. You got killed once again if that makes you feel any better."
Dean stopped smiling and joking around. "Yeah," he muttered, "sounds great."
Sam smiled to himself with satisfaction of shutting his brother up, but his stomach felt uneasy. This dream that he had wasn't just any normal nightmare. It felt real. It felt like it really happened. He didn't know whether or not he should explain this dream to Dean, or if he would just be wasting his time. He figured he wouldn't even try. It wasn't worth it anyway; Dean was too stubborn and pigheaded to believe something until he sees it for himself. Especially when it has something to do with him showing weakness. That was practically impossible for Dean; after all, he did see Superman in himself.
"Helloooo? Dude, are you going to answer me or not?" Dean yelled over the ACDC song that was playing on the radio.
Sam snapped out of his thoughts and back to what was going on around him. "Sorry, what? It's kind of hard to hear you over this crap radio." He joked.
Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at the road in front of them. "Dude, don't diss on the car, or anything in it. This radio is amazing; I don't see you listening to one in your car that sounds any better. Now," he continued, "I said, do you want to go to Florence or Nashville? Both places have a potential job for us, which one do you want to check out first?"
"Doesn't really matter to me; surprise me." Sam stated bluntly. He didn't feel like talking to anyone or doing anything. He was exhausted from the night before and just wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes and rested his head back on the window.
Dean, looking over at Sam, jealous, and not wanting him to go back to sleep so he had no one to talk to but himself, screamed Sam's name as loud as he could.
"WHAT?" Sam screamed. "You can clearly see I'm trying to sleep, Dean."
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I know. But it's not fair you get to sleep and I get to drive for hours on end with no one to talk to."
Sam huffed and sat up in his seat. "Alright Dean, what would you like to talk about?" He used a sarcastic voice two octaves higher than what he normally sounds.
"Uhhh," Dean was drawing a blank. "Well, uh, what was your dream all about? Anything interesting? Did it look cool when I died?" He snickered, knowing that was all he could come up with.
"Like you really care," Sam replied, "Or I really care enough right now to tell you. I'm tired."
"I-" Dean started,
"Just let me sleep a while, okay?" Sam cut him off.
"Fine, whatever." Dean swallowed hard and looked at the long road in front of him. He was sick of driving.
