Disclaimin' : If I haven't owned it by now, I'm never gonna. Damn.

A/N: Wow, you guys are so nice to me. blushes Thanks for all the awesome reviews, really, it keeps me going. I don't think I have the characters down as well as I could, but I'm trying! I hope you guys will stick with me, I swear, it'll get better. I hope...no, it will.

---

Sam was in heaven. No two ways about it. He was warm, he was dry, he was safe, and there was nothing even remotely supernatural surrounding him.

Staring at the astonishing amount of food in the middle of the table, he spared a glance at his brother, and almost laughed. The elder Winchester was surveying had placed a mound mashed potatoes on his plate, and was now staring at it with a look of extreme concentration, using his spoon to smooth the sides without collapsing the crater he'd created. When he was satisfied, he added a generous amount of gravy, pouring just enough that the brown liquid bubbled up and over the sides of his mashed potato volcano.

"Didn't your mother teach you not to play with your food?" Betty said, not unkindly, placing a basket of rolls fresh from the oven on the table.

Sam's eyes flickered back to Dean for a moment, watching his face for a reaction.

"No ma'am," he said plainly, "she encouraged it."

"Leave the boy alone," Earl Davis said, appearing at the doorway, regarding his wife with a smile.

He turned his attention to Sam and Dean, "Betty here likes to mother."

Sam had to smile at the warm way the couple talked about each other. They seemed to be the perfect couple, high school sweethearts married almost fifty years, as Earl had proudly boasted, and still going strong. Earl was a miner, looking remarkably fit for his age, solid and stocky, with a short grey crew cut. He looked the perfect counter part to his wife, the strength to her gentleness, while her kind nature seemed to diminish his intimidating build. He towered over her as he placed a kiss on her forehead, sliding into his place at the head of the table.

"Oh, Earl," Betty said, her kind face lighting up at his presence.

Earl helped himself to a thick slice of meatloaf and passed the serving platter to Sam with a wink. "Help yourself, son, your brother's not shy, and you shouldn't be either. We're pretty relaxed around here."

Dean looked sheepish, and smashed his mashed potato volcano, clearing his throat.

Sam forked a slice of meatloaf onto his plate and offered it to his brother, who hastily added two to his own plate before passing it to Betty, who finally settled into her place at the long table.

"But we do like to say grace," Earl said, noticing Dean pick up his fork.

He quickly put it back down.

"Uh...sorry," Dean apologized, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Betty said, folding her hands in front of her.

Dean and Sam followed suit, giving each other a look; they weren't used to this.

"Heavenly father," Earl began, his deep voice rumbling softly, "we thank you for this food, may it nourish us, body and soul. We thank you for these new friends, may you watch over them and keep them safe. We thank you for another day to be together, and we ask that you allow us many more. Amen."

"Amen," the rest of the table followed suit.

Betty beamed at her husband, "You always know just what to say, Earl."

"It was really nice," Sam offered up, looking pointedly at his brother.

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding.

Sam shook his head. His brother was certainly not a paragon of eloquence.

"Now," Earl said, grinning. "Dig in, huh?"

The rest of the meal passed quickly, filled with chatter and intermittent bouts of companionable silence. Sam found himself at ease around these people; he had immediately taken a liking to Betty and her husband, they reminded him of someone's friendly grandparents. Not to mention he hadn't been in an atmosphere as casual in...well, he couldn't remember. Which meant it had been a long, long time.

"What made you start a bed and breakfast?" he asked halfway through the meal, curiosity getting the best of him.

Betty and Earl exchanged a glance, and for a moment Sam thought he might have said something wrong.

"It gets a bit lonely out here," Betty said, choosing her words carefully. "What with Earl working so much, and, we'll, it's a small town to say the least, we don't really have much in the way of neighbors. Besides which, we have this huge house and it's just the two of us, it seems a waste to let all the space go to waste."

"People seem to like it," Earl added, taking a sip of his coffee. "Betty and me, we never had kids, so it's nice to get some company around here...and a little supplemental income."

"Oh, Earl, it's not about the money," she scolded.

"Of course not," Earl said, looking offended.

"Do you get much business?" Dean asked. "I mean, no offense or anything, but it's kind of a ... "

"Cow town?" Earl asked with a laugh.

Dean shrugged. "Well, yeah."

"Oh, we know," the miner laughed deeply. "But we've got enough to keep them interested I guess. We actually get a wide range of visitors. Couples looking for weekend getaways where they won't be bothered; we're perfect for that. Hikers, too, we've got quite a few acres here, and we have some nice trails out back. You should check them out, some of the best scenery you'll find. But if you do go, we ask that you respect the trail markers. There's some trails that are dangerous in the winter, the ones down near the river particularly. You don't really have to worry, though, they're very clearly marked."

"Maybe we'll check that out," Sam said, smiling politely.

"Would you boys care for any desert?" Betty asked suddenly, standing. "I've got some fresh pie, if you'd like."

"Sure," Dean said, scooping up the last bit of potatoes on his plate. "I never turn down desert."

Sam looked at his brother, wondering if he'd said something wrong, but his brother just raised his brows and shrugged.

"Sure," Sam agreed.

---

After dinner the boys offered to wash dishes - well, Sam offered, Dean kicked him under the table - but Betty said she'd have none of it, and sent them off with a wave of her hand, setting about her tasks. Earl disappeared into the TV room, and with nothing else to do, the brothers headed upstairs, hanging out in Sam's room. They weren't used to having this much free time on their hands, and when they did, they were usually in a town big enough that they could waste a few hours at a bar, or, more to Sam's liking, a library.

Instead, Sam began rooting through his bag, and Dean laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Dude, I am bored," he sighed, putting his hands behind his head and stretching out.

"Find something to do, then" Sam replied, "I'm gonna get a shower."

"Fine," Dean said, "leave me on my own. Do you know what kind of trouble I could get into here, Sammy? I could be arrested for cow tipping if I'm not careful."

Sam paused in the doorway. "Look, I know you haven't met anyone in a while, but be careful, Dean, you don't know where those cow's have been."

Dean's eyes widened at his little brother's joke, and hurled a pillow at him.

Sam ducked out just in time, the pillow falling to the ground.

Dean grumbled as his brother disappeared, "Watch it, Sam, I might have to wash your mouth out with soap."

There only answer was the bathroom door shutting.

Sighing, he leaned back on the bed.

"I am bored!"

---

When Sam returned, his bed was empty, and the door across the hall was shut, so he put away his toiletries and glanced at the clock. It was only ten, but there was nothing else to do, so he climbed under the covers and turned the light off.

Maybe this time he'd get a good night's sleep.

He could hope.

---

Dean shot upright in bed, suddenly awake and not knowing why.

He blinked in the darkness, heart racing, and listening.

He was beginning to think he was imagining things, when it came again, the reason he had woken.

A piercing scream, so loud it hurt his ears.

Where was it coming from?

He threw back the covers and leapt from bed, almost falling as the comforter wrapped around his ankle. He shook it off and opened the door, coming face to face with -

"Sam?"

His brother stood just outside his door, eyes wide, pulled from the first peaceful sleep he'd had in weeks.

"Do you hear that?"

"No, Sam, I'm sleepwalking," Dean snapped.

"What is it?" his brother asked, looking down the hall, ignoring the comment.

"I don't know," Dean replied, stepping into the hallway and putting his body in front of Sam's. "Come on, and stay behind me."

Halfway down the hallway, they heard it again, a shriek that sounded pained.

"What the fuck is that?" Dean asked almost to himself, leading Sam down the hall.

As far as they'd been told, the rest of the rooms were empty, aside from Betty and Earl's on the first floor. Still, the proceeded cautiously, opening doors and peering inside as well as they could without the aid of a flashlight. They methodically searched each room, coming back with nothing.

"Can you hear where it's coming from?" Sam asked, standing beside his brother.

"No," Dean said, shoving his brother with his elbow. "And stay behind me."

He led his brother down the stairs as quietly as possible, checkin the kitchen, dining room, and living room, frowning each time they found nothing.

Finally, they reached the back room where the elderly couple were sleeping.

Torn between the need to check and the feeling that peeping at old people was just wrong, Dean sighed.

Saying nothing, he twisted the handle and opened the door, wincing when it creaked slightly. Then poked their heads into the room, and immediately back out when they were satisfied that all was as it should be.

Still trying to be as quiet as possible, they climbed the stairs again, checking each room one last time before meeting up at the end of the hall.

"Okay, so..." Sam said, trailing off when he realized he had nothing to say.

Dean shrugged, looking uncertain. "I dunno."

"We heard it, right?" Sam asked, seeking confirmation. "I mean, that wasn't a dream, right?"

"Since when do we both have weird dreams, Sam? Let alone the same one? We heard...something," Dean said. "I just don't know what."

"It stopped," Sam said needlessly.

"Yeah," Dean said, looking thoughtful.

"So, what do we do?"

"Go back to bed, " Dean shrugged. "Coulda been anything, animal, freaky old people sex..."

He shuddered.

"God," Sam said, "I'd rather it be something creepy...er."

"You and me both," Dean said. "Look, whatever it was, it's quiet now. Try to get some sleep, we'll talk about it tomorrow."

Sam opened his mouth to protest, and Dean beat him to it.

"Don't start, Sam, you look like shit. You need the rest," he warned.

"Fine," Sam said. "I'll see you in the morning."

Dean waited until his brother's door was shut before returning to his own bed, pulling the covers back up and laying in bed, listening.

All was quiet. There weren't even the sounds of the house settling, or the wind blowing. It was peaceful.

He had trouble getting back to sleep, his ears listening to the silence, searching for some sign of the noise that had woken him.

Maybe they had just imagined it.

Yeah.

Right.