Searchlight, Nevada.
The Impala bumped to a stop and I jolted awake in the backseat, squinting against the glare of sun that somehow managed to catch me right in the corneas. Sighing out a quiet curse, I gripped the back of the seat and pulled myself upright, rubbing the pain from my eyes.
"Rise and shine, sleepin' beauty." Dean barked, chuckling at the look on my face. I'd been sleeping a lot lately, and he found it endlessly amusing. I'd probably heard every single quip and pun related to anyone who was ever comatose, ever, in all of cinema history.
"No. I think I'd rather go back to sleep." I grumbled, scowling at him from one eye. He grinned at me, and next to him Sam let out a short laugh.
"What? And miss all the fun?" Dean went on, nudging me. As he climbed out of the car, Sam glanced over his shoulder at me.
"How are you feeling, Ace?" he asked, his voice soft with concern. He'd been using that tone on me for days now, ever since I'd woken in the panic room groggy and confused. I was still recovering from the Nightmare, even though it had been nearly a month.
I had only vague memories of that week, but the experience was still fresh in their minds. And I could tell it scared them. Dean elected to pretend it never happened, but Sam...he was different. Almost...curious. Like he felt left out somehow, or like he'd missed some important piece of puzzle that made the picture indecipherable.
Whenever he could catch me alone he'd ask me about it. But I had nothing to offer him. All I could remember were hazy images, and a sense of dread. Trying to think about it made my skin crawl, and my stomach turn over. Whatever the creature had dredged up, it had been bad.
I sighed, blinking hard to clear the after-images from my eyes, and gave him a reassuring smile.
"I'm fine, Sam. A bit tired still, but...I'll live." I said, sliding my feet off the seat and shifting toward the door. He nodded slowly, thinking, and I paused.
"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He looked back at me, innocently, and made a 'hmm?' sound.
"Don't 'hmm' me, I know that look. What are you scheming in that giant brain of yours?" I retorted with a smirk, pitching my voice low so Dean didn't stick his nose in. Sam hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. He let out a short huff of air and opened his door.
"Nothing. It's nothing. Really." he said quietly, and climbed out, stretching. I frowned, watching him as he closed the door and crossed the sidewalk to the motel office. He was definitely hiding something. And I had an uncomfortable suspicion it had a lot to do with me.
"Hey! You comin' or what?" Dean shouted, pulling my attention his way. He stood near an open door, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. With a nod, and a bolstering breath, I climbed out of the car, stretched, and trotted over to his side. As I neared, he tossed my pack to me, catching me in the stomach and nearly driving the air out of my lungs.
"Oops. You okay?" he said, laughing as he gripped my shoulder. I gave him a thumbs up and nodded jerkily, even though it felt like one of my guns had hit me square in the solar plexis.
"Yup. I'm great." I spat, voice dripping with sarcasm. He gave me an apologetic look and patted my back.
"C'mon. Let's get inside and unpack. I'm freakin' starving." he said, leading the way into the room. I glanced over my shoulder for Sam, and saw him bent over the trunk, digging. He caught me staring and waved me to go on without him. I smirked and tossed a hand up, walking inside.
And immediately regretted it.
"Oh! What is that smell?!" I gasped, pulling the front of my shirt up over my nose. Dean stood near the foot of the bed nearest the door, his nose buried against his shirt sleeve. He glanced at me and shook his head frantically.
"I don't know, but...ough! I think I'm gonna be sick!" he replied, half-coughing, half-chuckling. I started to laugh, and then gagged, backing toward the door.
"Dean, we cannot stay here!" I choked out, and stopped abruptly as I backed into Sam. He let out a cry of surprise and disgust.
"What is that?!" he yelped, and turned away. I bolted from the room, stumbling out into the parking lot and gagging again. Dean staggered out to join us, and one of them slammed the door.
"Seriously, what the hell was that?" I called, bending forward and bracing my hands on my thighs as I panted. Dean let out a laugh, and Sam groaned like he was about to puke.
"I don't know, but you should have seen your face!" Dean hooted, and I shook my head, chuckling. Then I stood, and looked over at them.
"I'm gonna go talk to the manager. See if they can give us a new room." I said, giving Sam a cursory glance. His face was pale and greenish, and as I watched, he jerked forward on a gag. I grimaced in sympathy. Of the three of us, he had the weakest stomach.
"I'll be right back." I added, tossing my pack back over to Dean and starting toward the office. I heard him say something to Sam, but his voice was pitched too low for me to hear, and I missed it. For a moment, I wondered if this was his doing, a prank or something. But I shook my head, laughing at myself. He could be a pain sometimes, but I doubted he was comfortable enough to start pulling pranks on me again. I knew he'd been extra careful around me ever since the Nightmare. He almost never let me out of his sight. And if there was something even slightly dangerous to be done, he was always quick to volunteer. It was getting annoying, but in a way it was also a relief. At least I could always count on him to have my back.
The chime of a bell broke me from my thoughts, and I looked up. An elderly man was holding the office door open for me, and I threw him a small smile, speeding up to relieve him.
"Thanks." I said cheerily, and he gave me a nod, moving off down the sidewalk. As I entered the office, I glanced around, taking it in. There wasn't much to look at. A few chairs against the wall, a magazine rack, a dog.
I frowned, watching as the scruffy mutt raised it's head and shook it's ears. It gave me a disinterested glance before going back to it's nap, and I snorted.
"Yeah, you're no vision yourself there, Fido." I muttered under my breath, crossing the stained linoleum to the counter. It was empty, and my frown deepened.
That old guy was just in here. What, did the bellboy run away?
There was a door just behind the counter, it probably led off into a private office, maybe they'd gone in there.
Letting out a sigh, I rang the bell a few times and leaned on the counter, watching the security camera in the corner. There was no usual blinking red light, and I wondered if it even worked for a moment. The dog let out a grating cough, and I tore my gaze away from the broken surveilance equipment so I could watch the animal. He stretched, stood, trotted over to my leg, and sniffed me for a few seconds. Then he grabbed my pant-leg in his mouth and gave a gentle pull, growling softly. I eyed him, eyebrow raising.
"Dog. What are you doing?" I demanded, reaching down to grab him by the scruff. He looked up at me before I reached him, and growled a little louder. Then he gave a sharp yank on my leg, nearly pulling my foot from under me. I yelped, and jerked away from him.
"Dog! Let go!" I snapped, but he held on tightly, pulling full force now. I stumbled, one foot held firmly aloft by the animal, and cursed his lineage while I clung to the counter to keep from falling. There was a loud thud from the back of the office, and I heard boot heels approaching me quickly, thumping loudly against the linoleum.
"Hello?" I called, shaking my leg again. The dog still refused to budge.
"Hey, your dog's gettin' a little too friendly in here!" I added, and heard them stop. There was silence for a moment, and then someone called out to me.
"He doesn't like strangers." they said, and I stared at the door, my face slowly pulling up into a confused frown. What? What the hell was he out here for then?
"Okay...um, anyway. Our room smells terrible. I think something might have died in it. Is there any way we can get a different one?" I said, trying to normalize the conversation a bit. This whole situation was starting to make me really uncomfortable. And this dog was seriously getting on my nerves.
"Sorry, we don't do that here." the voice called, and I heard them start to walk away. I scoffed, giving my leg one last shake, and finally breaking free of the dog. Casting him a scowl, I jumped the counter and yanked the door open. It swung outward, squealing loudly.
"Wait!" I called, and broke off, staring. I was expecting an office, or a small apartment maybe. But the only thing I could see was the beginning of a staircase that descended into darkness.
My voice died in my throat, and I took a step back, eyes widening. Something was wrong here, and not just the obvious. A gust of stale air wafted up to me, and I caught a hint of the smell from the motel room. Like a rotting animal carcasse, left in the sun for too long. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and started to step back again. My calf bumped into a furry body, and I glanced down.
The dog gazed back up at me, panting. His tail waved slowly back and forth.
"What?" I demanded, half expecting him to talk back. Instead he snorted, and started down the stairs. Stopping after a few and looking back at me expectantly. I grit my teeth, glancing over my shoulder toward the front door. My gut was telling me to go back, to get Sam and Dean. Everything in me was screaming, "Red Flag! Turn Back! Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!" But as I looked at the dog, a tiny voice somewhere at the back of my mind whispered, "Go." and I couldn't resist.
Admittedly, not my greatest moment.