Hey, everyone! I know it's been quite a while since I last updated and I'm so sorry for that. I've been finalizing my college plans for next year and actually just committed. That, along with school and several music concerts I had to give made these past few weeks hectic. Thankfully, spring break rolled up and I was actually able to sit down and write. I think I'm going to spend another chapter or two on the hunt and then, well, I'll see where she takes me from there. Hope you guys can, at the very least, suffer through this one to get to the interesting stuff!

Fourteen hours in a car, listening to the same album on repeat, and getting shut down every time you try to bring up the case is practically torture. They won't tell me where we're going or any details of the case. Something about wanting see if I can figure it out on my own, which to me means they're not even sure what we're looking at. Confusing, as they typically don't want me on risky hunts- ghosts and the likes are the only ones they've ever let me on.

"We're ten minutes out," Dean finally announces.

"Thank God," I mutter. Don't get me wrong, I love them, but even I can't handle Dean after a burrito. "Does someone want to tell me the plan here? I know you're planning to go look at the bodies, but how do you intend to get me in?"

"You won't be going in to see the bodies with us. We'll get the case files and you can see the pictures, but you're right, it'd be too difficult to get you in with a believable lie," Sam says, "Instead, you'll find the nearest motel, get us a room-" he pauses.

"What?"

"Well, I was just thinking maybe we should get two rooms. One for you, one for us."

"A double and a single. That'd work. I'll see if I can't get them right next to each other, or connecting."

"Do we need two rooms?" Dean asks, glancing over at Sam.

"Yes, Dean, we do."

"Unless they have a room with a pull out bed. Then I'll get that."

"Are you sure?" Sam frowns. "It might be more comfortable for you to have your own room. Separate bathroom and all."

"Pull-out couch will be my second option, but it is an option." Sam shuffles around in his seat, pulling out his wallet and handing me a card.

"Just pay for one night. When we get there, we'll add more nights on as needed," he tells me.

"Sounds good. But one problem. Don't you have to be eighteen to rent a hotel room?" My school ID probably isn't going to cut it.

"Technically. But we got that covered. See the brown box under my seat?" Dean smirks, "go ahead and open it." Inside is a pile of fake IDs, badges, and business cards. I notice one small stack of rubber banded IDs and pull it out. They all have my picture, but different names and addresses on each. I chuckle at the one claiming I'm twenty two. No one would fall for that.

"Twenty two? Really?"

"Might be a bit of a stretch, but I figured with the right makeup and lighting, you could pull it off." Dean chuckles a bit and I know I can't use that ID for at least another year, but he's right, make-up combined with the dark lighting of a bar or club and no one would be the wiser.

Dean pulls into a lot and parks. They both adjust their suits and slide badges into the inside pockets. After helping me shoulder my bag, Dean hands me the ID he wants me to use and keeps the rest of the stack to himself. After quick hugs, I watch them walk into the morgue before turning and wandering down the street, phone in hand.

I'm sure they thought it'd take me a while to find the closest motel, but they forget that they bought me a smartphone. One quick search off Google and I know I'm less than a mile from a nice motel that allows eighteen year olds to check in. It doesn't take me long to get there at all and thankfully, the area is safe-looking, as is the motel. Clean, not trashy, and not filled with "one-night dates" looking for a little cash. Plus, there's a nice bar across the street I know Dean will approve of.

"Hello, miss," the receptionist calls politely, "booking a room?"

"I need two, actually. A room with one double bed and a room with two double beds?"

"Let me just see what we have available." There's a pause as he taps at the keyboard. "Ah, yes, we have just what you need. Would you like the rooms to be connecting? As luck would have it, we have that available."

"Could you? That'd be wonderful, thanks."

"Of course, no trouble at all." After a moment, he glances up. "I'm going to need your ID, please, and then you'll need to sign some waivers."

"Um, here's my ID," I dig it out of my pocket and hand it over, "but do you have a pen?" The man chuckles.

"Sure do. Here's the papers. I'm just going to make a copy of it for our records. After you check out, it will be destroyed."

"Oh, a-alright." Is that normal? Maybe it's a new policy? Or just because I look young?

"First time checking into a motel?" The man asks as I pass back the papers.

"Yes, actually. I never really traveled. I mean, not to an area where I couldn't just stay with someone." That's not a lie; when I was in the system, I traveled a fair amount, but never stayed in a motel.

"I gotcha. We just copy your ID so if the room is trashed when you check out, we know who it was. Some people like to check in under fake names. This is just insurance."

"That makes sense," I agree after a second.

"Will you be paying with credit card?" I glance at the card in my hand. As if Sam knew this was the plan already, it has the same name as the ID Dean gave me.

"Yes, I will be." I pass the card over and watch closely as he swipes it. He hands it back and makes two different booklets of key cards.

"Alright, your rooms are 213, which is the single, and 215, the double. You'll go up those stairs on your right and they'll be down the hall to the left on your left."

"Great, thanks." I gather my things and hurry off to the room. Sure, the guy seemed nice, but I don't know him and don't need to. I just want to be settled safely behind a locked door to wait for Sam and Dean.

The keycard works on the first try, to my utter relief. I toss the bags I'm carrying onto the bed and bolt the door, lock the handle, and attach the chain. After checking that the connecting door is locked as well, I pull out my phone.

Got connecting rooms. I'm in 223. -Ava

A minute later, I receive a message back from Sam.

Great. We'll be there in a half hour or less. -Sam

Good. So what do I do now? I glance at the bags on the bed. I'm not going to unpack; it's not like we'll be here long enough. Besides, the cleaning ladies might think it's odd if they notice a gun and a knife in the dresser or under the pillow. So that's not an option. I would read up on the case, but I don't have Sam's laptop and I do not enjoy the kind of multi-tab searching I would have to do on my phone. Besides, they'll be bringing me all the information in a half hour anyway, so all that would be is busy work. Finally, my eyes settle on the TV remote. Why not? I flip on the news and settle on the bed with my phone. There is, at least, something else I can research.