A/N: I wove a request from MariaKata into this chapter. She asked if I could show Hope pushing the envelope a little with the boys, like a normal teen would. Hope you all like, and I'm sure it won't be the last time she does! Thanks for all the reviews and kind words! I own nothing Supernatural, only Hope.

Chapter 8:

We'd been here two weeks and I was going out of my mind. I hadn't had sushi once. NOT ONE TIME. My brothers were so focused on this Jimbaja or Hodoovink or whatever the hell their latest monster was that they barely had time for me! I was running out of my back-supply of Paul Mitchell – this was chaos, and I didn't like it one bit! I had about reached my limit with those two … I mean – here I was, living out of a suitcase while THEY got to go running all around, meeting people and having fun.

Salt is not kind to feet, let me just say. It's everywhere, too! Every single window, but the doorway was the worst! Sure, housekeeping came by every day and cleaned it up, but that's not my point! It's the sheer inconvenience of it all! (I only let her in to do my stuff because Dean has SUCH a stick stuck sideways; I'd have her leave their linens on their beds.) I'd get bored and go to the pool, then come back and step in the salt, then the salt would MELT on my feet (which is a totally gross feeling)… I'd sneak back and have to re-do the almighty salt line... It's THEIR stupid salt! GAHHHH!

I love them so much, but sometimes they could be so mean and selfish toward me! For instance, yesterday when they got home they brought me a sandwich on WHITE bread! Just your normal, blah, white bread. Didn't even call me to ask if I wanted honey wheat! How do I live like this?

I can tell you, it's been a rough couple of weeks. I don't know how much longer I can hold on. I have to get out! I have to see the inside of a mall! My nails are growing out at a dramatically quick pace and I need a re-fill. They have no idea how I've been sacrificing.

I was lying on my bed, flipping through the premium channels, none of the shows I liked were on. There was a Game of Thrones marathon on that Dean and Sammy were just about swooning over. Seriously… Dragons? Kingdoms fighting over an iron throne? I just wanted SOMEONE to sit on the flipping thing already. I liked the dwarf prince. He was pretty cool.

I heard the keycard beep in the door and flew into the living room, ready to get the heck out of this prison with my brothers - until the smell… it hit me like wasabi right between my eyes. I slowly backed away from what I can only describe as a smell between a sewage treatment plant and rotten brussel sprouts. Oh no…. No way. I stumbled back until my body hit the opposite wall.

"Hey, Hopie – Need to use your shower while Dean uses the other… Can you believe this smell? Oh, man – this isn't even the worst of it!" Sammy groaned. I could tell he was grossed out, but he still managed to laugh. (But why? WHYYYY?)

Dean began to peel off his shirt right there at the entryway. I slapped my hands over my eyes in an attempt to un-see what I had just seen.

"Oh, God, Dean – no… Please… Keep yourself clothed. Get garbage bags. LOTS and lots of them…" I said, blinded, and now trying not to inhale.

I turned to my other older brother, letting my hands fall from my eyes but pointing a very badly manicured finger at him.

"You … you… stay out of my bathroom! Nooooo, Sammy! You smell like ass…butt….I mean…" I shut up. I looked down. I looked back up, hoping they missed it. No such luck.

Oh God, Both of them… the dreaded DOUBLE GLARE. (All I said was ass… jeesh!)

"Sit your behind down in that chair and don't move," Sam said curtly. "You're in time out," he said, giving me a "go ahead, challenge me" look.

"Time out? Seriously? I am fifteen years old! I will not be put in time out! This is crazy and unfair," I sulked, crossing my arms.

"Uncross your arms," Dean ordered. "And now, Little, you're in double time out."

"What the heck even is that? That's not even a thing" I blurted, despite my inner voice telling me to stop talking now.

Dean looked appalled and began to do that thing where he starts to talk to himself… "Oh, we will SEE if it's a thing or not. We'll just see!" He looked personally offended.

I looked over at Sammy – who had moved on to his glare/disappointed in me look. Dammit. "I've been sitting all day, Sammy, come on. Time out is stupid," I plead, giving him my weepy doe eyes.

"Not another word, you're in double time out, you heard us, Hope. It's a thing now - for YOU. Keep your butt in that chair until we tell you otherwise, and be glad," Sammy said.

(Wait – had the world gone crazy? When did Sammy turn into Dean? When did my brothers turn into smelly meanies? There wasn't even a white bread sandwich for me today. It just kept getting worse and worse. Well, two…I mean three, can play that game!)

"Be glad? Huh? Be glad for what?" I said, working on my kinda defeated but also snarky voice. I was combining all kinds of attitudes this evening.

They looked at each other. They looked at me.

"That you can sit at all," they said together.

(Terrorists. I would not give in to terrorists!) "I will not give in to your terrorism!" I said, raising my fist in the air, trying to be funny, but it fell flat. (What the heck is going on here?) I stayed seated, just the same. I gagged a little when I heard my shower turn on. Sam. Hail, Mary… full of Grace. I had just opened a new Chanel body wash! Crap!

SPNSPNSPN

It took them for-ev-er to finish showering, and I think they did it on purpose! My brothers hardly ever treated me like this. I was starting to get annoyed. They were the ones that brought me, they were the ones that made me get that stupid tattoo, and they were the ones leaving me alone every day! The minute I point out the obvious, they get all bunched up panties, and now I'm in this bizzarro world of "double time out."

Sammy came out first, his favorite tee shirt on – it was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. It barely fit him anymore, but he insisted on wearing it when we had a "night in." I guess that was his first hint to me that I wasn't going anywhere tonight. So unfair!

"Did you clean out the tub?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

"Nope."

Oh, it was so on.

Dean came out next from the other bathroom, belching loudly and rubbing his belly. Ugh. I mean, my brothers were good looking people, but right now they were just… well, they just needed a couple of banjos and a harmonica, get the picture?

"Deaaan, Sammy didn't clean out my bathtub!" I tattled. I stole a look Sam's way. "Did you use my Chanel body wash?"

The look he gave me told me everything. "Whyyyy?" I moaned.

Oh, his eyes were so hard to look away from once he caught you in them. "Well, Hopie-Dopie, didn't want to smell up the whole place with my smelly, smell-smell," he mocked. Jerk. Used my own words against me.

I stormed up from my time out chair (really?) and bolted for my bedroom, but he caught me easily around the waist and held me sideways against his hip.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you two emotionally damaging me?" I wailed, kicking my feet up in the air. He grabbed my ankles with his other hand. He had the nerve to not even perspire.

"Sammy, I'm really getting mad! Put me down! For real!"

"Sam, she's really getting mad at you. At us. Can't you see you're emotionally damaging her?" Dean said with dry sarcasm.

Sam cocked his head sideways so he could see into my face.

"Are you done with your tantrum, Little?" he asked, his look cutting straight through me.

I twisted and almost got away. "Hey!" he scolded me. "Knock your shit off, Missy. And I mean now." His last words were barely spoken above a whisper and quite honestly, they were a little… intimidating.

He took me over and put me next to Dean on the couch and plopped next to me. He tried to put his arm across my shoulder, but I shook him off. I was still mad.

"He almost dropped you," Dean said. "You almost made him drop you." He left the rest up to my imagination. All scenarios ending with me creating a problem for them in their world.

I put my face in my hands, sighing a real sigh this time. No faking or pretending. "I'm sorry for acting so…"

"Bratty?" Sam finished.

"Well, I was going to say 'stressed out'," I replied pointedly.

"What do you possibly have to be stressed out about here? You have everything you need and more, Hope," Dean said, looking confused.

"You leave me alone, still. I go to the pool alone. The only interaction I have is with the maid when she comes…" I slapped both my hands over my mouth. Caught in a trap of my own doing. Shit.

This time Sam's arm came all the way around my shoulder and didn't move when I tried to shrug it off. Dean's hand went to my knee and held onto it.

"You've left the room while we're out?" Dean questioned. "You CROSSED the salt line without us here to protect you?" I felt his hand tighten, just a teenie bit, but there was a vein pulsing at his temple. In, out. In, out. In, out.

I felt Sam's hand move from my shoulder to my cheek, turning me with the tips of his fingers to face him. He was furious up to the tops of his bright red ears. His eyes were sharp and … and… scared… and angry.

"You let someone into this room when you were alone? You let a stranger walk in here without either one of us with you?" he stated rather than asked.

I had to nip this in the bud! They were making this such a big deal. I took a breath.

"It was only housekeeping, Sammy! They come every day! It's their job," I explained.

"Then why didn't they make our beds? Why were sheets left for us, but not for you, huh?" he pressed.

I stammered, caught.

"Bcs I knw you…" I mumbled.

"Speak clearly, Hope. Use your words," he said then, sounding every bit my furious big brother. I dared not even look at Dean.

"Because I knew you would be mad at me, and I missed you and I didn't want you mad at me, Sammy," I said, starting to stupidly cry. "I just wanted you to go do your stuff then us have our time together – I was bored! She was nice. Every day she left me candy," I said.

"You took CANDY from a stranger?" he barked at me. I felt four years old. No – three.

"Well, now that you say it that way, it sounds bad…" I replied weakly.

"You crossed the salt line." Dean.

"Only to go to the pool and Jacuzzi so I could get out of this room!" I defended myself.

"The salt line protects you," he said. "WE protect you," he continued, looking at me with emerald stones of eyes.

"These aren't new rules, baby," Sam said, sounding disappointed. "And now you're in trouble, Little."

"You two haven't taken me out once since we got here! You know I need to get out! You've barely even called me! You – you're out having fun with, ewww, WOMEN…" I accused them.

"Slow down there, Judge Judy," Dean glared. "We planned this place especially for you. We have gone to the Jacuzzi and pool every night. We cook and eat together every night. We let you pick every movie we watch, because we miss you and feel bad about leaving you here."

"Apparently you think we go around picking up chicks in between the whole monster thing, hmmmm, Hopie? Is that what you think? That we would rather be out there with them than with you?" Sam's tone demanded an answer.

"That's what I was thinking. Yes. That you love your hunting so much that you will do anything to not have to be back here with me – your little sister that isn't like you at all. That is afraid of the dark. Who still needs a night light even though she's fifteen! So yes. I haven't had sushi or been to the mall…"

"People are dying, Little," Dean stated plainly.

I put my hands over my ears. "I don't wanna know, don't tell me that!" I cried.

Sammy pulled me over onto his lap and gently took my hands down and held them.

"Just because you don't want to know doesn't make it any less true, right?" he said, wiping my face off with the corner of his sleeve.

"Hope, even though you feel alone and even though you feel right, if you really, really knew you weren't breaking the rules to keep you safe, you would have called us," Dean said.

"Bad reception?" I tried.

"Wrong answer, honey. We call you as much as we can, and we always get through," he stated.

It was true. All of it.

"You guys just don't know what it's like. You… you… I wanna go home! NOW!" I cried onto Sam's shoulder.

"We aren't going anywhere, baby. But you are," Sam said.

I raised my head quickly and looked at the two of them.

"What does that mean? What's going on? I want things to go back to the way they were!" I said pathetically.

"Oh, jeez, dramatic much?" Dean said over me to Sammy.

"Yep," he answered, shaking his head, but his fingers were moving through my hair, trying to soothe me from whatever punishment they were about to dole out.

"I'm making you a sandwich and then you'll take a shower in our room. Then you'll be grounded to your room for the rest of the night," Dean said. (At least Sam would be cleaning out my shower.)

"No electronics," Sam said firmly.

"Barbarians," I scowled at him.

"Don't push us, pumpkin," he said. "You should be getting way more than this, and you know it."

I looked down at his knees and knew he was right. They both were.

Dean got up and started some dinner. "Can I have the honey wheat bread?" I asked pitifully.

"Nope, white," he said without looking up.

"Barbarians, like I said," I repeated. Sam gave me a little shake. "Hush, tiny – you're getting off easy. I'll go get the stuff for your shower," he said, getting up.

"I'll do it," I said, wanting my fluffy towel.

"Nope, you stay there and think about salt lines and taking candy from strangers," he ordered. "Stay," he pointed to me. Jerk.

He came back with my basic stuff, then Dean called me over to the kitchen. Grilled cheese and tomato soup, with a glass of milk.

"This is like, food for a five year old," I sulked.

"Then the food fits the child," he snarked, but gave me a wink.

"I miss sushi," I mumbled.

"What's that?" he asked, throwing more bread into the pan for him and Sam.

Ugh. Bullies. "I said thank you for dinner, Dean." (Ya big meanie. White bread meanie. Ick.)

I finished quickly and got up to shower. I could hear Sam running the water in my room, so I was relieved I wouldn't have to deal with that.

"Oh, sorry Little – gonna have to wash out our shower ... I didn't have time to," Dean smiled at me.

I bit my tongue. This was a disaster. They were trying to break me! I'd show them BOTH!

I took my shower, actually a double shower – first to wash the putrid smell of the initial shower cleaning off of me, then my real one. Dressed and ready for bed, I came back out to the living room in my Victoria's Secret PINK shorts set. They were watching Game of Thrones, of course. Some mostly naked chick was walking through a crowd while they pelted her with objects and chanted "Shame – Shame" at her. Lovely. I think it was that Kerleesti or whatever her name was.

"Ready for a tuck in?" Sam smiled at me. I looked at him and Dean, who was watching the pretty much naked chick on TV.

"Dean," I said. He looked up. "Sam," I added. "I'm sorry for being so bratty. I'm sorry for being so hard to deal with. I know you … wish…"

"Hey, hey… You stop right there, Little Pink," Sam said.

"We don't wish anything except for you to always be with us and be happy," Dean clarified. "Come here," he said, arms open.

I hugged my oldest bro, resting my head on him. He rubbed my back for a second.

"All yours, Sammy," he said,

"Okay, it's bedtime for girls who forget the rules that keep them safe," he said, but not in a mean way. He put his hand on my shoulder and walked me to my room.

"Sam?"

"Yep."

"Keep the bathroom light on, ok?"

"Of course I will, sweetie."

"I'm sorry." I was embarrassed.

"Stop that. We're right here, too. Just in the other room."

I flipped my light on and let out a surprised scream.

"Sammy! I've been robbed! Call the police! Call security!"

All my stuff was gone. All my MAC cases, all my products, everything. I ran into the bathroom.

"They took everything in the bathroom, too! Sammy! Call 911!" I screeched. "I think I'm gonna throw up," I said to myself. I was shaking.

He picked me up and put me under the covers. I peered at him and he stared back at me with one raised eyebrow and a knowing look. (Oh - those bastards!)

"Sammy! What the f…." I spit out.

He ignored my antics and pulled the blankets up over me, sitting on the side of my bed. He ran his fingers back off my face, wiping away a tear that had slipped out.

"Dean and I think you need a little more of a lesson than just going to bed early and a grilled cheese," he said, looking at me with sympathy, but not looking sorry at all.

"But… I love my stuff, Sammy. It's all I have."

"No, it isn't, baby. You are so much more than all that."

"I'll be ugly without it all," I sobbed.

"Not true, and if you believe that, then I'm glad we took it – for now, this is part of your punishment. And don't you ever leave this room or let anyone in again, do you hear me, Sissy?" His eyes had gone dark.

"I won't Sam – tell Dean – I promise! Just how long? How long until I get it all back?"

He kissed my face and hugged me close.

"That will all depend on you," he said, getting up to go. "Light on!" I reminded. "Love you, Sammy."

"Love you too, honey," he said, leaving the door open a little crack. I knew he has already done the salt in my room and would be re-doing it through the rest of the suite.

I should have never snuck around or lied to them.

Soon all I could hear was the Game of Thrones music and the tops of beer bottles being popped off.

Shame – shame – I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep. Shame.