"I'm telling you this case is going to be cold by the time we manage to get there," I insisted to Dean from the backseat of the Impala. There were demonic signs lighting up all over California and here we were taking our time trekking through the wilds of Colorado. It was less than fifty degrees out, the early spring snows still covered the ground, and Dean was stopping at every diner he saw for burgers and pie. He had about two months left on earth and he was living his best life while Sam and I suffered silently.
"Is not," came the answer from the driver's seat.
"Is too," I leered back. "Its gonna smoke out, find a new victim, or better yet another hunter is gonna exorcise it." I received no answer back, nor would Dean meet my eyes in the rearview mirror. An exasperated sigh rattled through my nose at his ignorance. I pleaded with Sam when he flashed a quick look over his shoulder. He scrunched his face, wanting to be a pacifist, but I knew I could count on him.
He cleared his throat, measuring his words before going against his older brother. "She's right, man," he started. Dean was fast to shoot him a piercing glare. Sam cleared his throat again and continued. "We've all been stuck in this car for the last three days."
"Come on, we've been stopping tons," he said defensively.
"Yeah, for you to get another burger or pie. I can't sleep in here again or I'm gonna wake up a popsicle! I don't have all that manly ruggedness to keep me warm at night." And I wasn't exaggerating. These lonely backroad highways had few diners and even fewer motels spaced between them. We had passed up motels the last two nights because Dean was sure we could get a few more hours of driving in. I'd been forced to huddle in the backseat, my jacket the only thing to warm me when the night temperatures dropped below freezing.
"Manly ruggedness?" Dean teased, finally catching my eye with a quirked eyebrow. The corners of Sam's mouth tugged upwards in a silent chuckle as I shrugged unapologetically.
"Let's at least pull into the next motel," Sam offered.
"But-" his brother started to protest.
I hollered over him, "If you say there's still hours of daylight left, I'm going to punch you." Deep laughter filled the car as I rolled my eyes at Dean in good humor. He pretended to be appalled, claiming those weren't the words about to leave his mouth. I joined in with Sam's laughter as he pouted in the front seat.
Dean did concede after we finished our play fight, finally pulling into a lodge-style motel by late afternoon. It was nicer than our normal digs with two full suites and a joint living area. Sam pushed his way through the door first, sprinting while calling dibs on the queen bed. I was too relieved to have a mattress to myself to care and Dean didn't have a reason to tell him no.
I collapsed on my full bed, sinking into the thick comforter that smelled vaguely of pine needles. Lazily rolling my head to the side, I looked at Dean as he sat down to take his worn boots off. His head down, he couldn't see me watching his fingers as he deftly undid the laces. He must have felt my gaze because he ever so slightly glanced up through thick lashes. I hurriedly adverted my eyes, glad the comforter was hiding the blush on my cheeks. The distinctive sound of his quiet chuckle filled our shared room until Sam's voice broke through.
"Hey, guys, its snowing!" he excitedly called from the living room. I pushed up on my forearms to see Dean gently jerk his chin toward his brother. Sam was indeed right, I saw, as pinpricks of white dust floated around the Impala. The dusting turned into a several inches of heavy snowfall at dusk and we were all grateful to be indoors and off the roads.
Dean was content to sit in front of the tv, mindlessly watching Dr. Sexy M.D. The younger Winchester and I had opted for snuggling on the couch with our respective books. Eventually I grew tired of even that and went to stuff my book into my bag. As I was coming back to sit beside my reading buddy, I happened to zero in on his hair. It was the longest I had seen it, easily brushing his collar and covering his ears.
I leaned on the back of the couch to whisper in his ear, "You need a haircut."
He turned towards me, a little startled at my proximity when our noses brushed. "You always say that," he said, pulling back to look me in the face.
"She's right," his brother chimed in, never looking away from the actors on the screen.
"Popular opinion today," I grinned sweetly, batting my lashes when he didn't immediately consent.
"Not too short, okay?" he finally conceded, his mouth screwing up in concern. I happily promised, scrambling to grab our nice scissors and comb.
He sat himself down, back facing the tv so I could absentmindedly watch and work. I playfully ran my fingers through his long, silken locks in an attempt to calm him before I started cutting. It had something to do with Dean traumatizing him and buzzing it all when they were kids. He still tensed up every ten minutes and I'd have to knead his neck or readjust his head to snap him out of it. Despite that, I managed to trim and straighten the edges of his hair without incidence. When I was done, he practically shot out of the chair and dove back to the safety of the couch.
I snorted comically as I walked over to Dean. "Your turn," I told him, stepping in front of the screen so he couldn't ignore me. He groaned loudly, letting me know his displeasure as I pulled on his sleeve, yet stood to get his clippers.
He sat as close to the tv as I'd let him, grumbling whenever I blocked his view. He was especially bad about grasping my hips to physically move me to the side. Despite his appearance, Dean cared more about his hair than his younger brother. It needed to be this short on his neck but not that short up top; and heaven forbid his front fringe not be cut straight and styled appropriately. Constantly having to double check my work, my hands stayed threaded through his blonde locks.
After delicately snipping another centimeter off his bangs, I did one more run through with my fingers. As I smoothed each strand into place, I noticed that his eyelids had dropped closed and he was gently leaning into the pressure. "You're missing your show," I said softly, beginning to form his typical spiked hairstyle. He gave a small uninterested noise, like he was barely conscious. "She's about to tell him that she loves him," I prodded again, a gentle smile on my features.
"Rerun," was the mumbled response I heard. I laughed quietly, removing my hands from his finished hair. One of his quickly trapped mine against his head, holding it in place against his ear. "Feels good," he whispered with an unfocused, half-lidded gaze.
"I can tell," I giggled, peering into his sleepy apple green eyes. "Time for bed, okay?" I extracted my hand from underneath his, grabbing hold of his flannel overshirt to pull him from the chair.
This time he didn't resist, leaning heavily against me as I pulled him out of the living room. I hollered a goodnight to Sam who was too engrossed in his book to know the time and grunted back at me.
A real bed did wonders for my body and I woke the next morning feeling refreshed like I hadn't in weeks. The sun was up as I gingerly walked to the window, my companions still sound asleep. The snow from last night covered the ground in a thick white blanket undisturbed by the world. It was a good thing we hadn't been caught driving in it too. Baby didn't handle ice well and she'd probably stay parked today for no reason other than to keep her safe.
I decided to brave the snow to make a food run, especially if we were going to stay another day. Beer, pie, something healthy for Sam, and food for Dean and I were all on my list as I slipped on my decorative combat boots and insulated leather jacket. We had passed a mini mart not far down the road that was within walking distance. A brisk wind swirled my hair around my face as I stepped outside, but I could feel the temperature already rising. I trudged on, my footsteps marking a path into the fresh snow behind me.
I personally abhorred ice and anything cold, but Colorado made up for it with dry, crisp air and a refreshing scenery. Tall pines jutted out of the snowbanks, their branches heavy with snowflakes and off in the distance, a mountaintop rose above the tree line, stretching for the heavens. The morning sun peeked through the clouds, casting the mountain's shadow until it reached the side of the highway. For fifteen minutes, I was engrossed in the nature around me instead of focusing on the cold seeping into my bones.
My destination was a moderate sized convenience store with two ancient gas pumps standing guard out front. Stomping off my boots, I hurried inside to begin scavenging for food in the heated building. Apparently, I was the only person with enough courage to venture outdoors, the store clerk there to keep me company. It was hard to ignore the feeling of his eyes nervously watching me, but I wasn't here to shoplift today. Quickly scanning the aisles, I grabbed salad, premade hot dogs, some apples, a six pack of beer, and the only pie I could find which happened to be pumpkin. I knew I'd never hear the end of it, but I'd get more flak from Dean if I didn't bring pie at all.
My arms burdened with the goods, I laid them out on the counter before the employee. He was a simple faced man, around my age, thin, with an intricate tribal tattoo winding across his knuckles. I commented on it which led to awkward small talk as he scanned the items. I dug in my pocket for the appropriate amount of cash, handing it to him when he said the total. Our fingertips accidentally brushed in the exchange, a small volt of static electricity passing through my arm.
Apologizing profusely, I thanked him as I turned to walk out the door. Not watching where I was going, a burly mountain man clipped my shoulder as he passed by me. The force spun me to the side slightly, nearly knocking my fresh bagged groceries from my arms. He gave no apology, not even noticing the insult, and continued to the beer freezer. I chose to shrug it off, not wanting to stay in the cold weather longer than I needed to.
I burrowed deeper into my jacket, hands stuffed into the lined pockets as I continued down the road again. The rising sun glinted off the white horizon, sparkling like diamonds across the mountainous landscape. I squinted against the sight to no avail; my vision encased by blinding white light. So bright, it seemed like I was being surrounded by the cold, white nothingness.