"Wake up Sammy. Dude, wake up."

His brother's voice woke Sam up from his comfortable sleep. Sam sat up quickly, grabbing for the knife under his pillow in a sleepy haze.

"Whaa? Dean, it's like three in morning."

Sam pushed his long hair back from his eyes and did his best glare possible while still half asleep. It didn't bother Dean in the slightest, and he continued to grin like an overgrown puppy.

"Dude, we have a swimming pool."

Sam, who had fallen back into the mattress (Dean was right, memory foam is awesome) in an attempt to fall back asleep, opened one eye.

"What?"

Dean's smile grew even bigger and he nodded enthusiastically.

"We have a swimming pool."

He slid out of the room, not even looking back to make sure Sam was following. Sam stared after him for a moment before throwing his blankets off to the side. When Dean heard his footsteps following, he turned back and grinned briefly, and led his brother deeper into the confines of the batcave.

The Men Of Letters bunker was huge, and although they had been slowly exploring, there was still a lot of unknown rooms and passages. Sam found himself in an unfamiliar passageway as Dean turned another corner confidently. They went through so many twists and turns that Sam was starting to wonder if Dean actually knew where he was going.

He halted suddenly in front of a door that looked just like all the ones they had just passed. Dean beamed at him and flung the door open, presenting it like a gameshow host. Sam looked at him suspiciously.

"Christo."

He muttered, only slightly joking.

"Haha, very funny, just look, will you?"

Sam stepped past him into the room and instantly stopped in his tracks. He ignored Dean's told you and took another step forward.

"Dude."

The pool was huge, at least Olympic sized. The Men of Letters must have had some sort of magical filtration system because the water was clearer than glass. It also noticeably lacked the mildewy smell associated with most indoor pools.

There was three heights of diving boards, positioned over the deepest end, looking unaffected by their many years of disuse and neglect. A rope swing also sat ready for someone to swing into the pool, Tarzan style.

A hot tub, bubbling cheerfully, sat next to a room that had Showers painted across the door in blocky letters. Sam looked over at his brother in open mouthed disbelief.

"I know, right? There's a steam room, too. And I checked the pipes; dude, they're filled with holy water. The pool was already filled up when I got here, but I had to turn on the hot tub and waterslide."

Dean told him, gesturing to the roaring waterslide that Sam had somehow missed in his first glance over the room. The Men of Letters really did not mess around with anything. They never want halfway, either.

"You know what this means, right?"

Dean asked, getting a mischievous look in his eyes that Sam didn't like. He realized and started backing away, but he was too late. Two seconds later Sam was in the pool. Three seconds later his brother joined him.

They played around for a while, splashing and dunking each other underwater, before Dean disappeared into one of the unmarked storage rooms. He reappeared about ten seconds later dragging a dusty old inflatable raft behind him.

They pumped it up with a hand pump he found next to it, then chucked it into the water as well. They played King of the Mountain on top of it, wrestling and roughhousing in the center of the pool. Every time one got pushed off, the remaining brother would cheer like they had won the World Cup or stopped the apocalypse (again).

They took turns on the highest diving board, rating each other on the quality of their leap from it. (The highest score either of them got was a 9.5, given to Dean for what he called his "Batman". Needless to say, it will not be repeated.)

The waterslide took a lot of abuse as well, Dean ignoring the Lifeguard must be on duty sign and turning it to the highest setting. Their whoops echoed through the room as they slid down it at breakneck speeds. There was also a failed attempt at boogie boarding down the slide, which resulted in Dean momentarily wondering how he was going to explain to Death that they were meeting again because of a waterslide.

They both turned out mostly okay, though, and it was well past two hours later when they finally dragged their sopping wet selves out. They hadn't had the foresight to bring towels or even change out of the clothes they fell asleep in, so they just let their shirts and pants drip awkwardly onto the concrete ground, until Dean's eyes lit up suddenly.

He fished the raft out the pool and held it up, in all its wet, tacky yellow glory.

"I know exactly what else we can use this for."

Kevin was drawn from his room in the middle of the night by the sounds of excited yelling. He considered ignoring it and going back to sleep, but when it persisted, he reluctantly dragged himself from his warm bed and into the hall. He had been up till who knows when, translating the tablet, which was still tucked under his arm like a teddy bear, and just wanted a few hours of sleep. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so, judging by the fact that the yelling had increased, if anything.

He shuffled around the corner into the main room and had to stop to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. Because unless he had started hallucinating on top of every other messed up thing in his life, the Winchesters, the fearless hunters, the things monsters checked under their beds for, the people who had stopped the devil himself, were on the stairs of their super secret base; mattress surfing.

Apparently it was Dean's turn to go, because Sam plucked the helmet he was wearing off his shaggy hair, and placed it on top of his brother's spikes. Dean laid flat on his stomach, hands gripping the side of the raft, then gave Sam the okay.

Sam didn't even hesitate, just shoved the older Winchester's raft down the elegant staircase with all the strength his big Sasquatch frame could muster.

Kevin was pretty sure he had discovered scientific proof of how mankind can move faster than light when Dean shot down the staircase. His excited whoops grew even louder as he careened uncontrollably downwards, and so did his brother's encouraging ones. Dean managed to steer to the left at the very last second when the stairs did a sharp turn, narrowly missing his demise and landing safely at the foot of the stairs.

His momentum carried him across the polished floor and brought him to an ungraceful stop in front of the still staring Kevin's bare feet. Kevin gawked down at the hunter openly. This guy has killed people, killed monsters that would make most people run home crying, had the King of the crossroads chained up in his dungeon. And now he was grinning up at the teen like an overgrown puppy.

"You want a turn?"

From up close, Kevin could see that Dean was soaking wet. In fact, both Winchesters were. He took the offered helmet from Dean and decided not to ask. Sleep could wait for a few hours.

The sound of wings fluttered through the mostly silent bunker. It was the only sound to indicate the arrival of the trenchcoated figure. Finding the library he had landed in empty, he teleported quietly into each of the living quarters one by one. He was slightly alarmed to find each of them empty, even if his blue eyes didn't betray it.

It was fairly early in the morning, and Castiel had been expecting the bunker's occupants to still be asleep. Normally, he wouldn't have popped in so early, after Dean's very extensive speech about what he would do if Cas woke him up before he was ready, but Castiel needed information.

Another flutter announced that he had left Kevin's room, the leftover wind kicking up a few of the papers with random scribbles on them.

Cas arrived in the main room seconds after. He found it empty as well, until he heard the soft sound of snoring. Only then did Cas look down, and what he found made him tilt his head in confusion.

He was fairly sure this was not a regular human custom, although he couldn't be certain. Sam, Dean, and Kevin, were all curled up together on top of some sort of inflatable device.

Kevin had halfway fallen off, and was using the tablet as a sort of pillow. The snoring was coming from him, although it sounded more like a kitten's snores than a human's.

Sam's hair was messier than usual, stuck straight out in all directions as if it didn't have time to dry properly. He was in the middle of the impromptu cuddle pile, long legs sticking off the end of the raft.

Dean had a happy look on his face, and was mumbling something about pie as his hands twitched. His jacket was tied around his neck like a cape, and a piece of paper had been pinned to it that had a little Batman symbol on it.

Cas looked down at them one more time before the flutter of his wings could once again be heard. The information he needed could wait until they woke up.

Twenty miles away now, Cas smiled softly to himself. He was very glad Dean had shown him how to work the camera on his phone last week. Now to find Charlotte and see how to get it framed. He had the feeling he was going to need multiple copies.