Chapter 4 Jericho California


Sam frowned as he looked through the cassette tapes that were kept in a bin under the front seats. Some of the cassettes were missing the cases and the only way to tell what some of them were was the peeling labels that stated what they were. He looked back towards Blair, who had fallen asleep with her chin resting against her chest. She was muttering and he froze upon hearing the words she was saying. Fire, ceiling, run he's wants to hurt you. He shook himself from his shock and reached over to shake her shoulder. She jumped in surprise and her head snapped up.

"I'm awake," She slurred and looked around in confusion, "Where are we?"

"An hour away from Jericho," Sam answered.

"Huh," She muttered, "Imagine that."

She raised her brows in thought and closed her powered down laptop. He watched as she put it into her bag and he caught sight of the textbooks. He was still shaken from her muttering and decided to ask about it.

"Do you usually have nightmares?" He asked.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "I don't remember most of them, just bits and pieces."

"Were you going to school?" He asked.

"Yeah, culinary arts," She answered with a tiny smile and she winced as she rubbed at her sore neck, "I wanted to be a chef, like my old man was."

"I'm sorry for your loss," He quickly stated, she chuckled quietly and sat up in the seat.

"Don't be, he passed when I was three and I didn't really learn about him until I was thirteen," She told him as she looked out the window and towards the small convenience store, "My mum didn't talk about him so my Gran told me."

"Your mom didn't talk about him?" He asked, even though his mother's death took a toll on his dad, he still knew stories about her.

"She was the one who cleaned, prepared, and buried him," She answered as Dean walked out of the store, "It was a bit too much for her."

"Did your family run a morgue?" He asked.

"Mortuary, six generations," She stated, her tone slightly flat, "I would've been a second generation chef."

He didn't get to ask what happened when Dean opened the drivers side door. Sam looked at all the junk food that his brother was carrying and crinkled his nose. Blair was handed a can of tea and a cinnamon roll in a cup. She gave a quiet thanks and placed them in her lap.

"You want breakfast?" Dean asked Sam.

"No, thanks," Sam responded before giving his brother a sideways glance, "So, how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

"It's not our fault that they send us the cards," Dean chuckled, "Hunting isn't exactly a pro ball career."

"And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked as Dean bit into a doughnut.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Dean replied after thinking for a few seconds, "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"Nice," Blair stated from the back seat as she put the lid on the now empty cup.

"That sounds about right," Sam commented before he looked down at the bin in his lap, "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?" Dean asked as he opened his soda and took a swig, "is it because they're cassette tapes?"

"That and," Sam responded as he held up a few tapes, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Is that an American term?" Blair asked as Dean took a Metallica tape and put it into the cassette player, "'Cause my dorm mate once said that I liked mullet rock."

"It's the genre of music," Sam quietly replied, he didn't want to insult her.

"Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," Dean quickly stated as he dropped the box from the tape back into the bin and started the car.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam replied as they drove away from the gas station, "It's Sam, okay?"

"I can't hear you, the music's too loud," Dean loudly stated before cranking the dial for the volume up.

Sam shook his head in disbelief and turned to face the window. Blair had opened her tea and was happily sipping at it. Dean had figured out that she liked drinks with fruit in them. It was weird having people figure that out.

The hour to Jericho was quick and the scenery around them changed to a lush area with grass and trees. The hour was fast mainly due to the fact that Dean was speeding. Sam had given a morgue a call and made sure that someone matching their father description hadn't been found. He hung up and pressed the phone against his chin. Nothing, he had no leads.

"No leads?" Blair asked as she leaned forward and put her arms on the rim of the sears.

"Nothing, no one matching Dad's description have been found at any morgue," Sam stated.

"Means he still alive," Dean commented.

He looked ahead as they came across an old looking bridge. It was made out of metal and concrete, with some wood thrown in to look a bit more retro. There were police cars parked at the entrance to the bridge and people were surrounding a lone car. He pulled over on the side of the road and Blair sat back.

"Think it might be another attack?" She asked.

"Definitely," Dean responded as he reached into the glove department and pulled out a small, wooden box.

Blair leaned forward and looked into the box. It was filled with fake ID's that had Deans and his fathers faces on them. She gave a very quiet sigh. This was her life now and she was going to have to get used to it. She leaned back until she was sure she couldn't be seen in the back seat and Dean gave her a discreet thumbs up.

"Let's go," Dean told Sam, "Kiddo, don't move a muscle."

"Like I was going to, that'd ruin your cover," She stated with a blunt tone, her face blank.

He got out of the car and Sam followed him. Sam gave Blair an apologetic look and she simply raised a brow at him and motioned for him to go with her eyes, she wasn't too upset at being left out of this one. It was sweet of him to apologize. She could see why Jess loves him. She could still see from her point and watched as the two walked up to the police officers and talked to them.

Dean must've said something rude, because Sam had stepped on his brothers foot. He stepped on it hard too by the glare Dean was giving him. Blair held in a small laugh at the sight. It was something she would've done, no wonder Dean thought she'd get along well with Sam. She watched as two men in nice suits walked towards the officers as the two Winchester's walked back to the car. Dean nodded at them and said something.

He got into the car and Sam got into the passenger seat. It wasn't until the Impala was out of sight did she sit up and things started happening. For one, Dean slapped Sam round the head. For another, she let out a small laugh.

"So, was it another victim?" She asked as Sam shot her a small glare.

"A kid named Troy," Dean answered, "Apparently his girlfriend is putting up missing posters."

"There wasn't any blood in the car?" She asked with a frown.

"None, nothing to suggest that the kid was killed," He replied.

"No body either," Sam added.

"God, that sounds far to familiar to some ghost story my aunt used to tell me on Halloween," She muttered, "my dumbarse can't remember what it was about."

"Relax," Dean told her, "what stands out to you?"

"The fact that whatever it is, is going after men," Blair replied, "there are a few things it can be, a siren, or a Rusalki."

"A what?" Dean asked.

"Rusalki is a Slavic creature," She responded, "The spirit of a woman who is very beautiful, has wet hair, and preys on men. They usually drown them so there would probably be a body in the water."

"How do you know this?" Sam asked her.

"My aunt married a Russian," She shrugged, "She liked telling stories too."

"O-Oh," Sam muttered.

"It might be something similar to that," Dean commented, "it's the right train of thought, what was this Russians name."

"Aunt Natalya, she told everyone to call her Nat," Blair replied with a sunny smile.

"Also a mortician?" Dean asked.

"It's how they met," She dryly commented as they headed into the town.

It was an older town with some first story buildings made from bricks. Those were more likely to fall due to an earthquake. There were a few people walking around, it was a slightly windy day and people were having to push hair away from their faces and put a hand against skirts. Dean found a place to park and they all got out of the car. They saw a young woman putting up posters with a man's face on them.

"I bet you that's Amy," Dean commented.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

Blair rolled her eyes at the two and let out a soft sigh. She looked around and spotted the library. She should probably go and do some research, having three people in Deans story would cause him a few issues. She gave Dean a small pat on the shoulder.

"I'll be in the library," She told him, "Don't forget me, all right?"

"Got it," Dean told her as she headed towards a crosswalk, "Good luck Wallace."

"Get bent!" She called back to him with a small laugh.

"You two are close for two weeks," Sam commented.

"The kid gives as good as she gets," Dean shrugged, "It's hard not to like her."

"A bit old to be a hunter in training," Sam commented.

Dean didn't add to that as he headed towards Amy. She looked up at him and raised a brow. Straight, dark red hair easily went past her shoulders and was doing a good job at getting in her eyes. They were a lovely shade of green. He couldn't help but look towards Troy's picture. How'd a schmuck like him get a girl that pretty?

"You must be Amy," He stated with a smile.

She sighed before giving him an answer. While the two Winchester brother interrogated her, under the guise of Troy's uncles from Modesto, Blair was in the library. She was sat at a computer and was glaring at the large, bulky monitor. The public computer was running so slow compared to her chrome book. She swore that God did something to it to make sure it ran better, because she'd never had the battery last more than eight hours before. She didn't have any results when searching Ghost.

"Let's try Centennial Highway," She muttered as she picked up her pen and put the end between her lips.

That freed up her hands and she started to type. The computer began to chug along as it searched for information. She released her pen and began to gently tap it against the table as she waited for the computer to load. She looked up when the door opened and saw Dean and Sam walk in. Dean saw her first and headed towards her.

"Anything?" He asked her.

"Nothing about any local ghost legends," she answered as he pulled out a chair next to her, "I've moved towards story's on the highway itself, the computer is extremely slow."

"I bet it doesn't help that you type too damn fast," he stated.

Sam hit him in the shoulder for that and Blair looked at him in surprise. He gave her a small smile before she turned back to the computer. Dean looked towards his brother and shook his head with a small dude. Blair was going through the stories when one stood out to her.

"Here's this, Suicide on Centennial," She quietly stated, "From the twenty-fifth of April in eighty-one."

"Angry spirits are usually born out of violent death," Sam commented as the two move closer when she clicked on the article.

It was a story about a woman named Constance Welch who had leapt off the bridge and drowned. Blair continued to read and she paused upon reading about the drowning of Constance's children. She began to tap her pen as she tried to think about what it could be. It wasn't the Russian monster, but something very, very similar to it. Dean pulled the pen out of her hand and she looked towards him with a frown.

"Seriously, there's something weird about this," She stated, "She left her kids alone in the bathroom? She should've been in hearing distance in case something went wrong."

"It doesn't sound right," Sam agreed.

"That bridge looks familiar," Dean pointed out.

"You're better off waiting till night," She stated, "The police will be there for the rest of the day searching for Troy."

"Speaking from experience?" Dean questioned.

"That's what they used to do for drownings in Aberdeen," She shrugged as she exited out of the article, "They'd search a whole day and then wait over night, division cut backs, a right bitch."

The two boys got up as she put her pen into her pocket and got up from the computer. She had a few papers surrounding her workspace and was picking them up as they got curious. Drawings mixed with notes from different articles or ideas. She had looked at what was happening from many different angles, in less than an hour.

"So, lunch?" Dean suggested.

Sam rolled his eyes at that and Blair gave a small smile as she held the papers to her chest. It was the only way for them to not fly away from her. That wind was a real bitch. They headed out after that and found a restaurant that was out of the way and tucked into a small corner of the main road. It was technically a Scottish pub and the irony wasn't lost on Blair.

"Oi! I'm tellin' you to be careful with the drinks!" A Scottish man told a male server as the group took a seat at the bar.

"Christ wa'a bawbag," Blair stated with a frown.

"What part of that was English?" Dean asked with a small smirk.

"All o' it?" She shrugged, her accent thickening to show her agitation, "Basically called 'im a dick."

The Scottish man came up to the table with a smile fixed on his face. Blair was giving him a blank look and there was a slight twitch of his right eyebrow. Sam and Dean watched with slight amusement. Did Scott's know when another person was Scottish?

"Righ' what'll ya have?" The man asked.

"Bangers and mash?" Dean quietly questioned.

"Is that a question or an order?" The man asked.

"An order," Dean replied.

"Righ' which one of ya's is orderin' next?" He asked, turning to Sam and then Blair.

"I'll have the Cullen Skink," Sam ordered with a polite expression on his face.

"Ah' least you know how to order," The man muttered before turning to Blair.

"A'll have the tatties and herring," Blair ordered in a drawl.

"Where ya from?" The man asked, "Ya sound Eastern."

"Aberdeen, wha' bout you?" She asked.

"Glasgow," He answered as he handed the order to the male server, "We don' get many kinsman up in these parts, you a burd to one of these lads?"

"Just good friends," She responded as they all asked for a drink.

Dean got a beer, Sam as well, and Blair had gotten a cup of tea. The two Scott's continued to talk and the two hunters watched in fascination. She made quick friends, and Dean knew that was an important skill for a hunter to have. Their food came and the server left them in peace.

"Thought the guy was a dick," Dean stated.

"He is," Blair responded, "Just a chatty one, I'm not going to be rude to him."

Sam raised his brows at that before starting on his food. Cullen skink was a soup made from smoked haddock, potato, and onion. Dean was eating breakfast which was amusing to Blair as she began to eat some of the potatoes on her plate. It was decent food for such a small, out of the way restaurant. It was actually making her a little home sick for her Grandfathers cooking. God, she missed that man.

"Did this make you home sick?" Dean asked upon noticing the wistful expression on her face.

"Just makes me miss my Grandad," Se responded, "He used to make food like this all the time, he also made haggis but we don't talk about the dark times."

"Is haggis that bad?" Sam asked.

"It is," She answered in unison with the Scottish man from earlier.

He held up his hands at that and Dean gave a quiet laugh. He wondered if it was a generation thing for people liking haggis. Blair mentioned that it had been created to make sure nothing had been wasted, but how many people actually liked it. A bill was put in front of them and he dug out his credit card and handed it over. It was a quick transaction and the card was handed back before they headed out.

They had a few hours to kill and spent it driving around. Blair was in the backseat doing more research and was glaring at her computer screen as she tried to find out what could be killing those men. Nothing. She must be looking in the wrong place. Sam jumped a little when his head hit the rim of the seat and she laughed a little, her expression cleared up while she laughed. He'd been fighting sleep for a few minutes before he'd done that. He was looking around and Dean was laughing slightly as well.

"Dude, what time is it?" Sam asked.

"Almost five," Dean replied, "The kid still hasn't found anything else on what out spirit can be."

"Oi, it's slow going and there's a lot of lore about spirits dragging men off," She defended, "I'm trying to find one that really fits."

Sam knew that they needed more information on what happened. They needed to catch a glimpse of the spirit. That could help to classify what it was exactly. They drove up towards the bridge. By the time they got there night had fallen and it was eerily quiet. There was the distant sounds of crickets and owls, but it was quiet. It was also cold. Blair was in the jacket once again and had actually zipped it up so that the cold wouldn't go through the shirt she was wearing.

"She chose a hell of a place to jump from," Blair commented as they stepped out of the car.

"Think she went for a swan dive?" Dean asked in a joking manner.

"It would be the fastest way, a broken neck and or skull," She stated as she thought out loud, "but seriously, time and place."

"I feel like you made these jokes when you worked at your moms mortuary," He muttered.

She didn't respond to that verbally, but the amused smile on her face said it all. She started to walk down the bridge and looked down at the water. Sam and Dean were talking and the conversation floated down to her, they were talking about their father and she rolled her eyes slightly. She didn't really have any respect for their father. She had seen certain ticks from Dean that came from having a hard parent. He was prone to keeping his emotions inside and not talking about them. Something bothering him? Don't worry about it, it's not important. What she wouldn't give to punch their dad in the face.

She heard a loud bang and turned to see Dean holding Sam up against the railing of the bridge. She made to move towards them, but then thought better. It's a family fight, and she would want someone to stay out if she was having one with her siblings. She felt something cold brush past her and turned to her side. A dark haired woman wearing a white dress, almost a nightgown, was standing there. Her dark eyes were fixated on her eyes as the woman climbed on the railing.

"Dean!" She called as the woman slowly smirked.

She didn't like that one bit. Dean and Sam we're heading towards the woman when she fell off the bridge. It was the fall that people in movies and tv shows did. The backwards fall with the arms spread out.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked as he looked over the railing.

"I don't know," Sam responded.

"I think that was Constance," Blair piped up, "I think I know what she is."

She didn't get to explain when the Impala engine started up behind them. She made a face and climbed over the railing. Dean and Sam followed after when she moved towards one of the beams to make sure that the Impala couldn't get to her. Dean was pretty pissed at the spirit.

"That Constance chick is a bitch," Dean grumbled as the Impala moved towards them.

It stopped and the engine shut off. A cold burst of air hit them and they all shivered. Sam and Dean pulled themselves over the railing once again and Blair slowly followed suit. The Impala was silent and the three let out breaths of relief in unison.

"Think that messed with the Impala?" Blair asked Dean.

"It better not," He grumbled as he went to check.

"You figured out what she is?" Sam asked her as he walked towards her.

"Yeah, it was one of the last few things I was about to research," She answered, "A woman in white."

She pulled out her phone and quickly searched for information on it. He moved closer to see the screen and she held it out to him. She didn't care if he knew she was from the future or some other dimension. He was a smart man, he'd have figured it out eventually. Yet, she had orders from God not to tell them.

"Pulling through," he muttered, "Are you from a different year or what?"

"Don't know," She shrugged, "And I don't really care, it doesn't bother me as much as it did two weeks ago."

"You the kind of person to live in the moment?" He asked as he read the information in the mythos website she found.

"Something like that, more of that good Catholic upbringing," She stated before looking towards Dean, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now," Dean replied before turning towards the bridge, "Again, that Constance chick, what a bitch!"

"She definitely doesn't want us digging around," Sam commented, "Whats our next move?"

"We find a motel and get some sleep and a shower," Dean stated, "We also need to find any sign of dad."

Sam felt like arguing before looking towards his brother. He looked tired, he looked towards Blair. She looked exhausted but wide awake. She seemed to feel his eyes and looked at him with a raised brow, that moved the hair that was covering her forehead and he saw stitches against the pale skin. They got back into the car and drove back into town. There was a cheap motel that looked like a place that their dad would stop at.

The motel was small with a line of small buildings that had plaques outside of the doors. It was one of those motels that were locally owned and catered to low budget tourists. In the words of the Winchester patriarch, it was inconspicuous and one where no one would look for them. Dean pulled into a parking spot under a tree and stopped the engine.

They got out of the car and headed into the main building. An older gentleman was running the desk and looked up from the book he was reading. He stood up straight and placed a book mark inside the book before closing it. He was reading The Call of Cthulhu.

"One room, please," Dean stated as he pulled out his credit card and tossed it on the counter.

It had hit the guest ledger and Blair wondered why they kept a handwritten ledger. She then made a face as she remembered that, that was normal in the early 2000's. Electronics weren't as big until later. She scratched at her cheek slightly and put her hand into the pockets of the jacket. Her fingers wrapped around her phone and she wondered how long she could keep up her front of not caring.

"You guys having a reunion or something?" The older gentleman asked as he read the name on the card.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"There was another Adramian, a Burt," The gentleman responded, "He bought out a room for the whole month."

"All right, thank you," Dean stated as the man charged him for a room, "Do you know what room Burt was in?"

"Room ten, you guys are in room thirteen," the man told them as he handed back the card.

They headed out the door, and headed back to the Impala for a change of clothes. Dean tossed Blair her bag and she caught it with a small grunt. It was heavy but her books were cut down to those she liked, her book on art and her two culinary books. She had her clean clothes inside it and that is what she grabbed out of it. She placed it back into the trunk and Dean slammed the lid and began to walk towards room 10. The other two followed after him and they ended up outside the door. Sam took something out of a case from his pocket and knelt near the door knob. Dean and Blair kept look out while he picked at the lock. Eventually a soft click sounded and the door was opened.

"Looks like my brothers room during finals week," Blair stated as they walked in.

"He puts papers all over the wall?" Sam asked.

"It helps him focus his thoughts," She shrugged, "He usually asks for my helps to take notes."

"Don't you color code everything?" Dean asked.

"It stops me from getting bored," She defended, "Plus it looks nice."

Dean made an expression of understanding at that as he walked over a salt line. Blair closed the door to the room and looked around it with a small frown. Salt was all over the floor and papers were everywhere. She watched Dean pick up a half-eaten hamburger and smell it. The look of disgust on his face was followed by him dropping it back where it came from and gagging slightly.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," He stated.

"Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried," Sam commented, "Trying to keep Constance out?"

"Has he spurn a woman or cheated on one?" Blair asked, "They go after men who are unfaithful right?"

It was asked in such an innocent way that Dean found it hard to get mad at her. He was inwardly cursing at that fact as he made for the shower first. Sam watched in amusement as his brother closed the bathroom door. Blair shook her head slightly and went to sit in a chair that wasn't occupied by books or papers. She pulled her left pant leg up and looked at the stitches on her leg. They looked better, but damn did they hurt like a bitch. She pushed the pant leg down when she felt the urge to scratch at them.

"No, dad's never done anything like that," Sam finally answered.

"Right, sorry for asking," She gave an apologetic smile and leaned back in the chair, "You seem like you want to ask a question, go for it."

"Did Dean actually hit you with the Impala?" Sam asked as he took a seat on the edge of a bed.

"Yeah, the Doctors said I was lucky that he slowed down enough to where most of my bones are fractured, if he'd been going any faster I'd be dead," She informed him, "Also said if he hadn't been driving and hit me, I'd have froze to death. It was fifty degrees out and yet my clothes were found to be below freezing, I had ice growing on my blood. It was a fun time."

"Sounds it," He muttered as she took out her phone and checked the time.

"I'm a medical mystery," She joked, he didn't laugh and she coughed quietly.

She was starting to wish Dean would hurry up with the shower. She knew how to read a room and boy was Sam a tough cookie. He had a sense of humor, but it didn't match to some of her jokes. The dark humor that she used when she was stressed didn't seem to be his cup of tea. She also wanted to see about removing some of her stitches. The ones on her face were ready to come out.

"You still need some of those stitches in?" He asked.

"The cuts on my face are all healed up for the most part," She answered, he got up from the bed and pulled something from his pockets, "You carry scissors in your pockets?"

"Just a small pair," He answered as he turned on a lamp next to her, "I'll get those for you."

"That's probably the best alternative," She stated as he started to remove the stitches on her cheek, "I'd probably reopen them or poke my eye out."

He shot her a look and she stopped moving. She fixated on the bathroom door, it was beyond his shoulder and a great way for her to ground herself. Jessica was one lucky woman. She was trying to ignore the fact that he was trying to cut the stitches as gently and efficiently as possible.

He had made quick work of the stitches on her cheek and had started on the one on her forehead. She brought a hand up to push her hair back and within seconds those stitches were out. He moved away and put the scissors back into his pocket. She got up from the chair and tossed the thread away. It was easier to emote with her eyebrows now that the stitches were gone. No more pain.

"Blair, you next?" Dean asked as he came out of the bathroom.

"Yeah," She answered as she picked up her clean clothes and headed into the bathroom.

It was quiet until they heard the sound of the shower start back up. Sam sat down on the bed and crossed his arms across his chest. They needed a game plan to deal with Constance. They needed a good one.

"What do you think of the kid?" Dean asked him.

"You two are a lot alike," Sam answered, "She's a bit strange."

"Just say weird, she's very aware of that fact," Dean stated as ran a hand through his damp hair, "She's one of those people who's stress comes out in the form of dark humor."

Sam raised a brow at that. That was insightful for his brother. Dean seemed to feel the expression he was making and sent him a look. He was more observant than people gave him credit for. He was trying his best not to be insulted.

"We're dealing with a woman in white," Dean stated, "Dad would've found the corpse and destroyed it already."

"She might have another weakness," Sam pointed out.

"Dad would make sure," Dean countered, "Did the article say where she was buried?"

"Her husband burried her somewhere," Blair stated as she headed out of the bathroom, "It's in small print."

"Right, of course he did," Sam stated, "He should still know where she's buried, if he's still alive."

"He's in his early sixties," Blair commented, "So it's pretty likely."

"You mind doing a drink run?" Dean asked her.

"'Course not," She answered, "Whats your poison?

"Cola," he answered as she dug in her jacket pockets for a few bills.

"You want anything, Sam?" She asked.

"No thanks," Sam answered.

She nodded in understanding and headed out. As soon as the door closed behind her Dean turned towards Sam. His brother had wanted to say something and he knew that the kid understood that they needed some time alone. He was just waiting for Sam to say something.

"What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry," Sam started but was interrupted by Dean holding up a hand.

"No chick-flick moments," Dean stated.

"All right," Sam laughed, "Jerk."

"Bitch," Was Deans response.

There was a knock of the door and Dean pulled out a hand gun. It then turned to scratching. Some muttering followed that one. A single thump hit the door and the two Winchester's shared a look.

"Could one of you let me in?" Blair asked, "Please?"

Dean opened the door and she shuffled in with a tired expression on her face. More like completely exhausted. She hadn't had a good night sleep since before the crash. Every dream she's had has been a nightmare. She was getting tired of it, she wanted a normal dream, but it was highly unlikely that she'd be getting one anytime soon.

She handed Dean his cola and she flopped onto an empty chair and within seconds had fallen asleep. She had brushed her teeth before leaving the bathroom, so there was nothing to worry about on that front. Dean quietly opened his soda and set it down on a night stand before grabbing a nearby blanket and tossing it on Blair. She startled a bit before a few fingers appeared from under the blanket and clutched at the cloth.

Sam didn't comment on that action. Dean was so used to looking after him that he took to looking after Blair. The closeness to his age didn't help. He began to walk around the room, the papers that were strung up were his dad's way of organizing thoughts, and it brought him some nostalgia. There was also some annoyance and resentment that came with the nostalgia. He noticed a photo sticking out of the frame and he headed towards it. He plucked it out of the frame and smiled at it. It was a picture of him and his family, his father was holding a much younger version of himself in his lap and Dean was wearing a baseball cap with a grin on his face. He put the photo down and headed towards a chair for himself to sleep in. Dean was sipping at his cola as he read through the files again.

Sam was out in fifteen minutes and was snorting quietly. Dean looked up and smiled slightly at the sight of his baby brother sleeping in a chair that was too small for him. It was just as entertaining as when Blair fell asleep in the Impala for the first time and had her head back and mouth wide open. There had been no snoring, something he had been surprised at, but when she had woke up with a jump and a very deep, husky voice. He didn't know that a woman could get down to that octave and level of husky.

He tossed a blanket on Sam and went back to the files. He heard Blair start muttering after an hour of sleep, which was a new record for her, and the words were the same that they'd been for two weeks. Sam gave out a sound that was a cross between a groan and a whimper. He was worried for his brother for half a second before a small smile broke out on his brothers face. So, a nightmare turning into a good dream? Sounds like a good thing happened. That was a rare occurrence for this family.

"Don' open the door," Blair muttered before shifting in the chair.

Something else was muttered before she took a tumble out of the chair. She was still for a few seconds before sitting up and looking around blearily. She laid back down and curled up under the blanket. He raised his brows as she fell back asleep. Seriously? Did she just not care where she was sleeping as long as she got some form of rest? At this point, with all the nightmares and weird sleep schedules, he was probably on the money with that one.

He finished his soda and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading to sleep himself. He took Blair's discarded chair and kept his firearm out the entire time he was asleep.