Chapter 3

I woke up feeling relaxed. Dean and Sam were both still asleep as I gently lifted Dean's arm off me. They would still sleep for another few hours and another shower wouldn't hurt. I placed Dean's arm back in place and tiptoed into the bathroom. My toiletries were still in the shower. I hadn't gotten to them yet, but hopefully I would remember to bring them along this time.

The hot water didn't last as long as I wanted, but it did the trick to relax me as much as I was capable of these days. Dean of course had helped me sleep another good two hours to a gross total of six. More than I had gotten in a few days, I sighed. I would be just as tense when we entered the state limits of Washington.

Putting on my lacy bra and underwear I heard someone move out there. Opening the door as quietly as I could I spotted Sam twisting and turning, his face contorted in pain. He was beginning to mumble something before I hurried over to his bed and firmly shook his shoulder. His eyes broke open, gasping for air as he sat up. Dean, the lighter of the sleepers, woke up hearing Sam breathing heavily.

"What's wrong?" he said, rushing over to where I stood, putting his hands on his shoulders, like the protective older brother he was.

"It's gotten another person," Sam cried, punching his hands into his face as he left them in his lap. "I could see that person. I felt their fear," his voice cracking with disbelief.

His powers had indeed been getting stronger. Bobby had been right. Dean glanced up from Sam, his arms falling to his sides. "We better get this son of a bitch."

"I'll go get dressed," I mumbled, trying discreetly to get back into the bathroom, hoping neither would notice my lack of clothes. I wasn't as shy as when I was younger, but I still didn't want them to see me dressed in less than a bathing suit.

Sam hardly moved. His face was so distraught with feeling the pain and terror of that person. Dean looked over at me saying, "Yeah. We have a hunt." No smirk appeared and I realized that this was serious. Dean always joked about what I was wearing, especially when he considered me a sister…

I scampered back into the bathroom, bolting the door as I thought of Sam and Dean's faces. There was no more spark in either of their eyes. Even when on the job they had smiled, joked a few times, but with the visions only getting worse it seemed to be sucking up all their happiness.

Looking at myself I hoped no one would recognize me. It was true that my hair was still a lovely wavy brown that I had cut short to my shoulders. It was easier to keep it up and out of enemies' hands this way. My body was completely toned from training and battles. Usually when I stopped I would run five, six miles a day to keep my body in shape. Today would not be a day for a run.

It bothered me a little that Dean didn't notice what I was wearing or made a remark. He had done that quite a bit when we had worked the job together. He would always say life was a lot easier without a girl to work with because they were simply a nuisance, or I should wear more clothes because I was a distraction in skimpy clothes.

Although he couldn't really talk. When a job was finished he would go out partying, have a beer or two at a bar we were near and come back, have his shirt off so I could feel his hard body behind me, snaking his arm around my waist as I pretended to sleep. At that time Sam would have been back an hour or so before, tipsy and already snoring up a storm. When the hunt was over I would think I'd fall down dead and sleep for hours, but it wasn't until I felt Dean's arm around my waist that I felt comfortable enough to drop down into a dreamless sleep.

Pulling on some jeans and a long sleeve shirt, I popped open the lock and walked out. My hair was still wet, but I combed it back into a tight pony tail. One day my hair would naturally have a wave in it from it being up so much, but for now I hardly cared. Grabbing my stuff from the shower I threw it in the bag. A few tank tops would get wet, but it was hardly the end of the world. Besides, I wouldn't need a tank top in Washington, this or any time of the year. Zipping it shut I swung the bag over my shoulder and shut the door behind me.

Dean and Sam were out at the car, prepping for the trip as I came towards them. I had hitched a ride into town since my truck was still probably sitting in front of someone's house, a scrap of metal that reminded me of Charlie.

"Ready?" Dean's gruff voice shook me from my reservoir of memories.

"Yeah," I said, throwing my duffel on top of the hidden armory. My gun was in the bag as well as a bible and salt pellets. Keeping life light had kept me from being bogged down lately. I hopped into the back seat of the Impala, leaving the front seat for Sam as was customary. It didn't really bother me, my legs were shorter and sitting in the back I could lie down and take a nap if needed.

"Then let's get this show on the road," Dean replied, reversing the car and slamming it into drive.