The highway stretched out for miles in ahead of the Impala.
The last case had taken the brothers to Wyoming where people had mysteriously falling comatose. A Japanese sleep spirit had been letting people live in their dreams while they were uninterrupted by the outside world.
"What do you dream about?" Sam asked, tearing his eyes away from the scenery he'd seen too many times before.
Dean turned to look at his brother. "What?" he asked, confused.
"Y'know, at night, when you're asleep. What do you dream about?" Sam clarified.
"Girls," Dean said simply, turning his attention back to the road.
Sam shook his head and chuckled. "I should've known," he said looking out the window.
At night, Dean dreamed of girls.
He dreamed of Jo and he dreamed of daughters.
Laying in bed, sleep overcoming him, he relaxed contently.
Little blonde girls in dresses. They called him Daddy and ran around the house chasing each other.
There were boys too, but he never saw them. He heard them and heard of them, but they were always roughhousing in the yard or at baseball practice.
In another life, they might have not been dreams. Jo might have lived.
He had a family. He had kids. He had Jo.
At night, he dreamed of girls.