I really shouldn't be writing new fanfic while trying to finish two incomplete oneshot drafts. But plot bunnies do what plot bunnies wish to do and I couldn't resist. I will note that it's 2 am and I've done absolutely no editing on this thing, so yeah.

In other news, I actually wrote a Superfalls oneshot that I can guarantee will never have a sequel (I dare someone to make me make this wrong). Also, no one is facing inevitable death... strange...

Takes place around the time of Fallen Idol in SPN (S5E5 for people who don't remember), and around Into the Bunker for Gravity Falls.

Enjoy!

Sam Winchester couldn't remember the last time he and Dean had stayed at a motel this nice. It wasn't anything fancy by normal people's standards, just one of those chain places they had all over the country.

Normally the Winchesters avoided place like this, but they were driving on the outskirts of Portland and the area was populated enough that the chains ran everything that couldn't scrape by a health inspection out of business. It might be a bit tighter on their wallets than the brothers would've liked, but it came with some benefits.

Benefits like complimentary breakfast.

By the time Sam got back from his morning jog, Dean was already seated in the dining area attached to the lobby with a half-eaten plate of food in front of him and an already empty dished shoved away to his side. He was sitting next to the window, conveniently facing in the direction Sam had been jogging from, the younger brother noted with a touch of irritation. He loved being back on the road with Dean, but the eye his older brother was keeping on him was as watchful and frustrating as John's had ever been. Dean's constant checking on Sam always had a loving and caring feel to it, no matter how much Dean would deny anything besides brotherly duty if Sam ever mentioned it outright, but ever since Lucifer broke out of the Cage it felt it felt cold and mistrustful, like a combination between a constant admonishment and a lurking suspicion he might fall off the wagon again.

Even just leaving the motel room for his morning run had been a battle. No matter what Sam tried to assure his brother, Dean acted as if Sam leaving his sight might finish the apocalypse as quickly as it was brought about.

"Dean, we're practically in the suburbs. If some big bad demon was going to jump out of some dark alley and kidnap me it'd probably wait until there're some actual dark alleys to jump out of."

…

"Dean! I'm certainly not going to meet any demons in dark alleys either! I'm clean. I'm done with that stuff."

…

"You know what, I'm just going."

Silence.

Dean barely looked up to nod at Sam as the younger Winchester walked into the dining room and sat down across from his brother at the table, making eye contact just long enough to acknowledge that Sam was here and was okay before darting back down to focus on his plate. No, to focus on what was sitting on the table next to his plate.

"Are you reading?"

Dean looked up for only a split second longer this time to give Sam a level glare. "It's a newspaper, Sam. I'm looking for a hunt."

"Dean, we're in the middle of the freaking apocalypse. This is our hunt."

"No Sam, we need something to do besides running around with angels up our asses not getting anything done."

"And we're going to do that by going on some low-level hunt and pretending that the world isn't in the middle of ending right now?"

"We're going to do that by doing what we've always done Sam. Saving people. Hunting things. Stuff hunters normally do."

Sam was ready to come back with another retort, but just as he opened his mouth Dean got that look on his face that said he was done with this conversation and went back to his paper, not even trying to pretend he wasn't flipping through it and even opening the insider page across the tabletop. Sam sighed before pushing his way up from the table and grabbing a fruit salad from the meager buffet for a healthy breakfast.

By the time Sam returned to the table with his food Dean was earnestly engrossed in the paper, no longer half-faking it to avoid a confrontation, and had even pulled out a pen to underline key information. Knowing that coloring his tone with anything but interest would lead to more huffing from Dean, Sam couldn't help but be sincere as he asked, "found anything interesting?"

"Not sure if it's interesting, but certainly our kind of weird. A whole town in rural Oregon, some place called Gravity Falls, was decimated overnight. No casualties, but a whole ton of property damage."

Sam leaned forward. "Okay. Not our norm but certainly strange enough. Any hints at what did it?"

Dean let out a hint of a chuckle, "that's the thing. The article isn't well written and gives the appearance that there are a bunch of conflicting opinions, but the owners of one of the houses that seemed to be hit hardest claimed it was attacked by a giant woodpecker."

Sam could feel the skepticism twisting his features into what Dean jokingly called 'the bitchface'. "A giant woodpecker?"

"Yep. He lives in a log cabin if it makes you feel any better."

Dean almost relished in having his brother's familiar deadpan glare on him again. It was good to have Sam back and not worrying or guilty over the hell that's going on and most importantly himself.

Sam reached across the table to grab the article for himself as Dean took the opportunity to get up and grab thirds from the buffet table. By the time the Dean sat back down with his food Sam was clenching the paper in white-knuckled fists, staring far too harshly at the page.

"We're not going on this hunt Dean."

"Aw come on Sam what's wrong? You're not scared of a little birdy now are you? It's not even that far out of the way, if we leave now we should be pulling in before lunch."

"It's not that Dean. We're not going to do another hunt at some damn Mystery Spot again."

Dean's eyebrow raised as he leaned over Sam's shoulder, setting his plate down to one side of his brother and looking through the article another time over Sam's shoulder. So that's what had Sam's knickers in a twist…

Sam grimaced as Dean proceeded to loudly chew his (surprisingly crispy, if the sound was anything to go by), bacon mere inches from Sam's ear. After a minute he leaned forward to the paragraph detailing the eyewitness interview, really more of a plug for the old man's tourist trap than anything substantial, "it's a Mystery SHACK, Sam, not a Mystery Spot. It should be completely different from Florida. Besides, this is a giant woodpecker attack. It has absolutely nothing to do with some weird Groundhog Day wormhole crap."

And bitchface was back again and bitchier than ever. "It wasn't any wormhole crap Dean, it was the Trickster. Setting off some giant woodpecker on some miser in the middle of nowhere sounds more like him than anything else we've ever encountered."

"It does seem pretty funny." As soon as he started chuckling Dean pulled himself back to his side of the table, dragging his plate away from Sam before his attitude spoiled the greasy goodness. "But hey, why would finding the Trickster now be such a bad idea? He's easily the strongest guy we've ever met, and he certainly seems to be having too much fun to just watch the world end. Besides, he hates dicks. What bigger dicks are there than all the angels and demons trying to duke it out Armageddon style?"

Sam just gave another exasperated sigh, the firm glare telling Dean he refused to give up. The sat in a stalemate for a few seconds before Dean took another giant bite of his breakfast.

"What is that thing anyway?"

"No idea." Dean didn't even bother waiting until he swallowed to start talking, pausing just to take another bite and continue while chew said mystery meat. "The sign on the table called it a 'pig in a poke' though. Really delicious."

Dean didn't understand why Sam chose that of all moments to storm away.

And later that morning the brothers drove off without a word, continuing to search for another hunt. An unspoken decision had been reached that the Winchesters would never investigate Gravity Falls.