AN: So, it's a couple hours late, but whatever, I put it off during the week in favor of my long fic, God Mend These Broken Wings, and was busy all weekend. But here it is now!


Sam whistled when he grilled. Dean made fun of him for it, naturally, laughed at how domestic Sam was, while conveniently pretending he and Cas didn't own a nice house in the suburbs.

He flipped a burger as he whistled some rock song. Through the sliding glass doors to the kitchen he could see his wife preparing a nice salad, and he smiled. She looked up and caught his eye, a smile filling her face as well.

Then he woke up. He stared at the water-damaged motel ceiling and sighed. He never thought he'd wish his dreams were still premonitions.