Sam and Dean Winchester were exhausted, as they woke up in the small hours of the morning. Dean would have done anything to fall back into his cheap and uncomfortable motel bed and sleep until he died, but the two brothers had to skip town before the cops came asking questions.

They barely had two hours of sleep, spending the last couple of days researching on the monster that killed four young boys and attempted a fifth, before the brothers managed to track and kill it. It was a rough fight, and Sam almost got killed again, but the two brothers managed to save yet another life.

Dean grunted as he swung his duffle bag over his shoulders and glanced at his brother. He quickly checked for any signs of injury, and seeing none other than the tenseness of Sam's shoulders, he nodded and headed out of the motel to check out of the room. The two brothers didn't really have to say anything to each other at this point; each knew their designated job to make a swift and clean getaway.

They have, after all, done this at least a thousand times.

Dean smiled, abet a little harshly, at the old, fat man at the front desk, who was too busy staring the the news showing in the small television by his side. Dean glanced at it and winced, recognizing the house where he and Sam killed the monster the previous night.

"People are crazy, man," the front desk guy said, shaking his head.

"I know, right?" Dean said before nodding to the man, "Take care."

He didn't stop to hear a response.

Dean sighed heavily as he walked toward the parkinglot, where he parked the Impala. Seeing Sam's tall figure bent over something near the front of the car, Dean walked faster, shoulders set in a familiar tense posture.

"Hey," Sam said, as soon as Dean came into view. "Get this."

Dean received the item from Sam and took a glance at it, bewildered. He looked up at Sam, who was grinning widely. Dean felt his lips twitch in response, although he tried to repress it. Dean leaned against his car, along with his brother, and smiled together, ducking his head to cover up his laughter.

"Let's get going," Dean said, after a while, a smile still in place. He read the paper in his hand once more and folded it carefully before pushing it into his pocket. He tossed his bag into the back seat of the Impala and entered the driver's side as Sam entered the other. Turning up the volume high, a fast beat cheery rock song, Dean sped out of the driveway, his head bobbing along to the music.

It was times like these when Dean and Sam didn't regret. They didn't regret it one bit.

Dear Sam and Dean,

I don't know how many people say this, but I just wanted to say...

thank you. For everything.

Love,

Colin (8) and his older sister Clara(13)