A/N: Prompt by whumpster-dumpster: As they wait for Caretaker to come out of the store from a small supply run, Whumpee falls asleep in the car. When they wake up, the car's already left the lot and moving again. Except it's not Caretaker driving.

Quite frankly, being human was exhausting. Jack hadn't known just how tired humans could get, and he certainly didn't know what to do about it. He was sleeping his usual four hours. Dean even mentioned needing four hours. So maybe that was right. But Sam didn't seem to think so. He sat in the driver's seat of the Impala, Jack riding shotgun, and his face was drawn with worry.

"What did I do wrong?" Jack asked.

"Nothing. Just… mad at myself. I should've— I should've told you, taken better care of you. Do your muscles ache? Things still working properly?"

"Sam, I just missed some sleep."

"Yeah, a lot of it."

"So where are we going?"

"I'm picking up melatonin and whatever other sleep aids a pharmacist says won't kill you to mix with it. You need sleep. I'm worried."

Jack wanted to shrug, but felt too tired, and his body really did ache. He rested back against the seat, and his vision was blurry and unfocused as he saw the road and the passing buildings and trees. The exhaustion was there, but he'd been trying to go to sleep, and there were too many thoughts in his head. Sam had told him it was insomnia. So Jack had insomnia. Great, another human thing. What else was there to all this? An early death?

A cough rose from his throat, and as he continued, it brought sharp pains to his lungs. When he breathed in after it felt as if his lungs would pop from the expansion, the pain acute enough for him to put a hand to his chest.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Fine."

Sam put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and then he was pulling into the parking lot of a Gas N' Sip.

"Be right back."

Jack gave a slight nod, and then he thought maybe the door closed after Sam got out. Jack soon couldn't remember, or take in his physical surroundings, and he fell sleep.

There were vibrations beneath his feet, the engine running, the Impala racing along the road.

Jack kept his eyes closed fo now, even as the Impala took a sharp turn that made his head rest hard against the glass of the window.

"Sam?" he asked, voice a mumble, barely audible.

There was no answer.

Jack opened his eyes.

A stranger was at the wheel. She had dark, wavy hair, tan skin, and when she spoke, she had a scratchy voice, "Hello, Jack."

He sat up, exhaustion dragging at him, but the adrenaline put a wall between him and sleep, a wall that he was crashing against.

"Who—who are you?"

"I'm an angel."

"What do you want?"

The angel smiled at him, and there was something hungry in her eyes that made Jack's stomach seem to drop down to his feet, or maybe it was on the floor of the Impala.

"Heaven wants you to make angels."

She said no more. She kept driving. Jack reached for his phone to call Sam, but he realized it was gone. She'd taken it, probably broken it.

"Can I at least know your name?" Jack demanded.

"Duma. You're going to save Heaven, Jack."

A/N: Probably going to do this prompt for Teen Wolf too. Wish me luck!