Disclaiiiimer : I still own a whole lotta nothin'.

A/N: Let me know what you think, eh? I'm still a little unsure of this, but I know where I'm taking it, and I'm pretty sure I'll continue. With the right motivation? Read and review and I'll give you a cookie!

And just for : Was anyone else disappointed by Faith? I had it geared up in my mind to be this amazing episode... and... Not only was Dean's situation too easily dealt with, and over in seconds, but where was the resolution! Come on, seriously... those boys need to talk.

---

Dean Winchester looked remarkably good for a dead man.

He also seemed to have no concern for the fact that his brother, who he fondly claimed had 'the Shining', had predicted this to be his last year on earth. At the moment he was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and bobbing his head along to Metallica, which was playing just loud enough for him to hear without waking Sam. His brother had fallen asleep a little over an hour ago, and he was reluctant to wake him up just yet. Poor kid needed all the sleep he could get.

Spotting an exit sign with a faded gas pump etched in white, he pulled off without bothering to use his turn signal.

Spotting what seemed to be the only gas station on a long stretch of road, Dean pulled the Impala off and killed the engine.

Leaning over, he nudged Sam's shoulder none too gently.

His brother's eyes opened halfway, looked up, and groaned.

"Wake up, sunshine," he said with a grin.

Sam followed his brother out of the car, yawning. "How long was I asleep?"

"Hour, give or take," Dean said, inserting the nozzle into the gas tank and narrowing his eyes as he watched the pump.

"Where are we?" he followed up, rolling his shoulders, stretching out the kinks.

Dean blinked for a moment, then looked around.

"You don't know where we are?" Sam asked incredulously.

"We're somewhere between where we were and where we're going," he shot back.

"We don't know where we're going," Sam sighed.

"Then why is it so important to know where we are?" Dean said, straightening and replacing the pump.

"You're impossible," Sam shook his head.

"Oh, admit it, it's endearing," his brother replied as he screwed on the gas cap.

"I'll admit I'm surprised you know a word that big," Sam said sweetly, following his brother to the station.

"Watch it, Sammy," Dean warned, "I might just leave you here."

"If only," he muttered.

"I'm gonna take a piss, give the man his money," Dean said, inclining his head to indicate the man standing at the counter.

"Okay...wait, hey!"

Sam groaned again, wondering how he always fell for that, and reached into his pocket to count his dwindling cash flow.

"Pump one," he said to the man at the counter, still counting out the bills.

"Thirty even," the man replied in a tired voice.

Sam handed him most of the bills in his hand and tucked the rest into his back pocket.

The attendant, an older man with salt and pepper hair and a bushy beard, counted it out and placed it in the register, moving with almost painfully slow motions.

Sam surveyed the candy and gum at the front counter for a moment before choosing a Mars bar. As he waited to receive his change, he took into account the darkening sky. "Would you happen have any nearby motels or anything?"

The man paused in his movement, and Sam wanted to smack himself.

"Well," he said, appearing to think hard. "We've got a motel a few miles up the road, and we've got Miss Betty's bed and breakfast, if that's more of your style. Mighty nice place."

He placed the two quarters in Sam's hand and offered a smile.

"Either way, you take this here road a ways up the line," he said, nodding to himself. "Ain't much around these parts, so you shouldn't have too much trouble."

"Tell that to my brother," Sam mumbled, smiling and thanking the old man.

Dean met him at the door, drying his hands on his jeans.

As they stepped outside, Sam unwrapped his candy bar and took a bite, eliciting a pointed stare from Dean.

"What?"

"Dude," Dean began in a low, warning voice. "There better be one of those for me in your pocket."

Sam swallowed. "So..."

"You suck."

"You want half?" Sam asked half-heartedly.

"No," Dean replied haughtily.

"Are you pouting?" Sam asked in awe.

"I am not pouting," Dean said, spitting the last word out distastefully.

Sam laughed and popped the rest of the chocolate in his mouth with a laugh.

Sliding behind the wheel, Dean smiled briefly. It was good to see his brother acting so light-hearted. Even if it did mean he got no chocolate. Bickering over something so silly - it reminded him of when they were kids, when even impending doom could be brushed aside. When the worst worry in the world was who got the biggest piece of the candy bar their dad split between them.

Sam's hand waving in front of his face brought him back down to earth.

"What?" he asked, shoving the offending appendage out of his way. "Personal space, dude."

"I said, are we stopping for the night?" Sam repeated. "The guy in there told me about a bed and breakfast up the road."

Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Bed and breakfast? Sammy...I don't do 'B&B's'."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know, it's a far cry from our usual filth, but think about it."

"Sam, no -"

"Home cooked meal, Dean," he prodded. "And they probably have washing machine."

That shut his brother up real quick.

"Are you saying I smell?"

Sam tried not to laugh at the offended look on his brother's face.

"All I'm saying is we don't get a lot of chances to stop at a laundromat, Dean. Think about it. I know my clothes could use it."

Dean glared. "This is gonna cost."

"It's a ghost town," Sam said. "How much could they charge? Really."

---

"59.99 a night."

The woman had been sitting in the living room when they showed up, and introduced herself right away as Betty, the owner of this "fine establishment." She was a pleasant looking woman with grey hair and wrinkles that only made her look friendly, like someone's grandmother, and one who was used to laughing.

"I wasn't really expecting anyone," she said as she led the boys up the stairs. "We don't really get a lot of folks through this way unless they plan it. Lucky for you Tuesday's laundry day! I just changed the sheets, so you'll have a nice clean bed to sleep in."

Sam looked back at Dean, who offered an amused grin.

"The bathroom's at the other end of the hall," she said, "And you rooms are here, I'll just put you across from each other."

She swung open the doors to the two rooms at the end of the hall and left the keys in them. "I hope you'll find them to your liking."

The brothers stuck their heads in to survey the rooms, while Betty kept speaking.

"Now, dinner's usually at seven, I hope that's not too late for you, but my Earl doesn't get done until then, and we do like having a nice family dinner," she said with a warm smile.

"Even with strangers sharing the table?" Dean asked with a raised brow, ignoring the elbow Sam shoved his way.

"Oh, yes, even then," Betty said, still smiling. "We enjoy having company, it can get so lonely out here."

"Is there anyone else staying?" Sam asked out of curiosity.

"Oh, no, dear," she said, her smile faltering. "No, we do the occasional weekend getaway, but we usually fill up in the summer, people wanting to go someplace quiet. And in spring, we get quite a few honeymooners. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Well, actually," Sam said, rubbing his hand over his neck, "We were kinda wondering if we could borrow your washer? We've been road tripping, and...well, we could use it."

"Oh, it's no problem," she replied waving her hand. "Let me get you boys a basket and some detergent. The washer's in the basement, I'll go ahead and take you down there, and if you'd like, you can shower while you wait on those clothes."

Sam immediately unzipped his bag, going through and sorting his dirty clothes, which admittedly was almost the whole bag. Gathering his clothes, he looked into the hall to see Dean staring at him.

"What?"

Self consciously, Dean lifted an arm and sniffed. "Is she saying I stink? Seriously, Sammy..."

---

Two hours, several loads of laundry, and a refreshing shower later, Dean was relaxing on the soft bed in his room, stretched out in clean jeans and a black t-shirt that smelled a little too springtime fresh for his scent. All he needed was to be on a hunt and have some big ugly demon sniff him out because he smelled too much like a little old lady.

He wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, though. Free laundry was free laundry.

He wondered if Sam was sleeping, and hope this whole 'family' environment would calm the boy down enough to get a good nights' sleep. He needed that. They'd been running themselves ragged these days, and never knowing what would be next...well, nothing about their lives was easy.

Hell, they could both use a rest.

---