Chapter 10

They had all fallen asleep at just before 5:00 in the morning. They had all been exhausted, aching, and relatively grumpy.

It wasn't all that surprising that they slept 'til 8:30. In the evening.

Sam was the first to wake, and so the first to shower. It felt odd to wake up at night, but it didn't make too much of a difference. Pulling himself up from the floor had been no small feat, but as the hot water loosened the knots in his muscles, he smiled despite it all.

It wasn't until the steam had seeped out of the bathroom that Dean was finally up and warning Sam that he'd better not have used all the hot water. As the door closed behind his big brother, Sam cast a glance over at Anna, who seemed just on the verge of waking, since she was squirming slightly under the covers. Sam crossed the room to the dresser which held Dean's discarded pistol, and picked up the gun, intending to wipe it down before placing back in the weapons bag. It was a habit to keep their various tools of supernatural extermination hidden; you never knew who could show up at the door.

Before he could take one step with the gun, however, Anna jerked awake with a small gasp. Sam recognized the expression on her face, having worn it frequently himself. It was the classic aftereffect of a nightmare. He had suspected that the events of last night were haunting Anna more than she was letting on, anyway. He had expected that she would let her strangely Dean-like barriers down sooner or later.

What he hadn't expected was for her face to pale as her eyes found him, or for her to fall out of her bed as she jumped in obvious fear.

"Holy-!" Her exclamation was cut short as her body hit the floor, and she struggled with the blankets that were now tangled around her. Sam whirled around to find whatever it was that had to be behind him. He cast his eyes about the empty space, eyebrows furrowing when that space was devoid of supernatural creature or anything more frightening than a lamp stand. He turned back to Anna, seeing her stare, no longer scared, but more confused and ashamed looking, in his general direction. He looked down at himself.

He realized that he still had the gun in his hand. The same gun he'd pointed at Anna the night before.

"Oh," was all he could manage as he realized what it was that Anna must have been dreaming about. Guilt and embarrassment settled on his already sagging shoulders.

The creature was dead. She'd killed it. She'd saved them. Dean was telling her to check on Sam, and Anna suddenly had a strange sensation of déjà vu. Hadn't she done this already? She turned and found Sam. She broke his chains with the gun. He squirmed. "Sam?" she asked, noticing that her voice sounded muted, almost like a recording. "Sam, it's Anna." Sam's eyes opened and he gazed around the dark room before facing her again, and Anna gasped to see the fiery anger in his eyes. She yelped as he shoved her away, wrenching the gun from her hand and cursing at her repeatedly. She pushed herself up off the ground and turned to ask Dean what was happening, but found he wasn't there. She searched frantically with her eyes but could find no green eyes or sandy hair. Sam was aiming at her and telling her that she had killed Dean. "I didn't! Sam, I didn't kill Dean! It's not true!" Sam was somehow twice as tall as was normal for him, and he was pointing the gun and preparing to fire. Anna began to cry. "What are you doing Sam?! Sam! Please, NO!"She couldn't have killed Dean. She would never hurt Dean. "Sam, don't!"Sam was firing now, and she didn't have time to scream or close her eyes before the bullets pierced her head and she fell. She was dead. She knew she was dead.

She gazed out the window into the night, through what she knew to be her dead eyes. She blinked. She jumped up in shock and fear, gasping as she awoke. Her eyes found Sam, normal size now but with the same gun in hand.

"Holy-!"She jumped and fell out of the bed with a thump. She struggled out of the tangle of blankets quickly, frantically whipping her head around to stare at Sam, who was looking very alarmed and slightly confused. Oh, Anna thought, Aw dang, I'm so stupid. Sam seemed to realize exactly what Anna had been dreaming about. Anna realized that she'd probably just made Sam feel majorly guilty. She watched his shoulders sag, and she tried not to sigh in relief as he replaced the gun on the dresser. Just a dream, Anna. Just and honest-to-goodness nightmare. She knew they were both avoiding the other's gaze.

The silence was incredibly awkward.

And Anna noticed that Sam didn't meet her eyes as he muttered.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" she asked quietly. Then Sam lifted his gaze, and she saw the guilt there in his eyes. "Sam," she began, curling the blanket around her as she sat up on the floor by the bed, "there's no need to be sorry. It was an honest mistake. I want you to forget it, ok? I have." She rolled her eyes when Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Ugh, ok, so I haven't quite yet, but I will forget it. And I know I can trust you." She motioned for Sam to come over, and he sat down beside her. "And you can trust me, ok?" she added. Sam smiled.

"Yeah," he agreed.

And with that, the near fatal events of the night before were indeed forgotten by both parties.

Dean opened the door from his shower, feeling ridiculously better than he should have felt considering the beating he'd taken only fourteen hours previously. Sure, he was still sore, and he had a bruise the size of Texas on the right side of his face, but he felt rested enough to be getting on with.

It was strange, therefore, that as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the motel room, he suddenly felt very different. His face suddenly hurt more, and as he saw Sam sitting beside pajama-clad Anna on the floor beside the bed, What the heck are they doing?, he felt a hot swoop of some unfamiliar feeling make itself known in the center of his chest. As they both told him good morning, Dean realized that his face was hurting because his jaw was clenched unusually hard. He loosened his mouth immediately. He also noticed that as soon as Anna flashed him a smile, the hot swoop went away. He watched her go into the bathroom, his eyes widening as he categorized the feeling he'd just experienced. Jealousy. To avoid Sam reading his eyes, he moved over to his bed and rummaged through his bag for no real reason, suddenly disgusted with himself for actually getting jealous, and for no reason at all. Wait, I don't get jealous! Holy heck, what has this girl got me on?! He shook his head, choosing to ignore the issue rather than acknowledge the fact.

And that was when he noticed the doughnuts. His tilted his head to the side, moving to the dresser to grab the still half-full box. His eyes widened and his face grew serious as he turned to Sam.

"Dude, what is this?" Dean demanded. Sam looked up from his laptop, which he had pulled out just moments before and was already preparing to do research on.

"Uh, doughnuts," Sam replied in a tone that clearly said 'You're an idiot if you don't know what those are, you dope'. Dean closed his eyes briefly before responding, still serious.

"Yeah, Einstein, I got that, but how did they get here?" Sam had obviously been prepared to respond with a sarcastic remark about flour, factories, and delivery trucks, but he stopped himself when he realized what Dean was talking about. The brown-haired hunter turned back to his laptop, probably wanting to hide the wince he would have on his face when Dean reacted to what he said next.

"I, uh," Sam hesitated, then let it all out in a rush, "I went out to get 'em before you woke up-"

"YOU WHAT?" Sam was spared from answering for a moment as they both paused upon hearing the unmistakable sound of something dropping in the shower. Anna had no doubt dropped the shampoo when she heard Dean's yell. But then the eldest Winchester was fuming once more. Sam attempted to divert the impending argument.

"Dean-"

"What the freakin' heck did you think you were doing?! You left again, without waking me, without telling me? After last night, you went out alone?! I mean, what is that, Sam?!"

"Dea-"

"You nearly got killed last night, man! You got jumped just feet outside the dang door! What, once isn't enough?"

"I-"

"You pull a stunt like that again, Sam, and I swear-" The bathroom door swung open just then, and Dean was momentarily distracted by the sight of Anna in a towel.

"What on earth is everybody yelling about?!" Anna demanded, seeing both Winchester's standing and facing each other.

Dean honestly could not answer her. He truly had forgotten the reason for his yelling. The only thought his mind currently had space for was how wonderfully thankful he was to whoever it was in history that had set the standard for towel size. He stared, blinking, before he unwillingly ripped his eyes away to remind himself that he was supposed to be mad at Sam. He stumbled over his words for a second, noting that Sam was staring at the girl's wet skin, too.

"Dziah…um, Sam went out to buy doughnuts this morning," he continued when Anna seemed confused, "before we woke up." Now Anna looked like she got it. Dean was surprised, however, at her reaction. She turned to face the younger brother, her entire body communicating disapproval, and that disapproval was very clear considering the amount of her body that was visible.

"YOU WHAT?" she shouted, sounding so much like Dean that he would've laughed if he hadn't just remembered to be mad. Sam meanwhile, was looking incredulous.

"What in the world did you think you were doing?! You left again without telling your brother? After what happened last night, you left alone? Are you insane?!" It was a miracle the towel managed to stay in place with the way that Anna was moving her arms up and down. Sam's mouth was slightly open while Anna continued, repeating Dean's words almost exactly.

"You nearly got killed last night, Sam! You were jumped just outside the door! Is once not enough for you? I mean, what the heck is that, Sam?"

Sam was looking really weirded out now. Then again, Dean was kinda freaked too.

"Okay," Sam said to Dean, "That was weird."

"What are you talking about?" Anna asked. Dean supplied the answer, sounding almost amused.

"Well, you pretty much just repeated exactly what I told him."

"Oh," was all she said before she went back into the bathroom to change.

"Oh," was all Anna could think of to say before she went back to the bathroom to change. Before the door could close, a t-shirt and pair of sweat pants hit her in the back of the head. She grinned and rolled her eyes, picked up the clothes as Dean pretended he had done nothing out of the ordinary, and she left the boys to finish their fight.

She spent an extra moment in the bathroom just to take in the amazing scent of Dean's clothes.

Dean had scolded a bit more, and Sam had apologized by the time Anna was dried and changed. Dean had also told Sam that he wasn't leaving the motel room again so long as they were in Ohio, and that if he had to tie him up and shut him in the closet he would, but no way was Dean letting Sam go anywhere alone for the next five hundred miles. Anna had laughed when she heard that.

Dean had mentioned that it was nearly 9:00 now, and he was pretty darn hungry. Anna agreed, but Sam seemed to have had his fill on a sandwich he'd gotten when he bought the doughnuts; Dean had griped some more about that.

9:30 saw Anna following Dean to the Impala to go get some food. Dean had locked Sam in, insisting that if he left the room, he'd never walk again. Sam had assured them that he'd be researching the whole time.

Before they'd left, Sam had asked Dean when he should expect them back.

Dean took one look at Anna in his clothes.

He told Sam he'd call him later and let him know. When Sam had muttered something akin to 'play nice,' Dean had smacked him in the head.

The sandy-haired brother was driving the Impala out of the parking lot with the dark-haired girl in the passenger seat. He liked the way she looked in his t-shirt. He noticed that once she had bowed her head and inhaled against the sleeve. He hoped to god that he smelled good.

Anna thanked god for making that boy smell so good.

They drove for twenty minutes in either direction, but found only an out of business McDonald's. They'd passed a bar twice now, and Anna wondered if Dean was just ignoring it because she was with him. That bugged her. She didn't mind bars.

Dean wasn't sure if taking Anna to a semi-questionable looking bar would count as making him look cheap, Why do I even care?!, so he passed it up. He ignored it the second time too, No, really - why the heck do I stinkin' care!?!, but there was just no place to eat in this dang town. He was seriously considering calling Sam and asking him how the heck he'd found a place that sold sandwiches when Anna solved the problem for him.

"Dean, that bar's coming up ahead. The sign said they had onion rings."

Dean thanked every god he knew the name of for this girl.

Anna thanked every god she knew the name of for these onion rings.

They had entered the bar to the stares of the few people within. Bruises and mismatched clothes aside, however, they must not have seemed too strange, because the bartender addressed them naturally enough.

"What'll it be?"

"Two beers, and two burgers with onion rings," Dean's response was automatic. He looked surprised when Anna stopped the bartender.

"Make that one beer," she corrected, giving Dean's blank expression a small smirk, "I'll have a ginger ale."

Dean looked like he'd just been told there is no Easter Bunny.

Anna smirked happily again.

Dean was pretty much floored.

"You don't drink?" he asked weakly. He watched as Anna accepted her glass with a 'thank you.'

"Does it matter?" she asked before she took a sip. She was looking at him way too innocently to be believable.

"Why didn't you say something, we didn't have to come here," he suddenly felt rude and cheap again.

"I did say something," Anna insisted, "I said 'I'll have a ginger ale.'" She was grinning now.

When Dean still seemed unsure, Anna put down her soda and spoke to him firmly.

"Look, I have absolutely no problem with people who drink. I just don't drink myself. One hangover was more than enough for me," she was relieved when Dean finally grinned, "so it's not a biggy. I'm fine."

The onion rings were thoroughly delicious.