Sorry if this chapter isn't the best. I apologize for my lack of updating, but I'm finally posting on account of the amazing reviews I received. Seriously, I couldn't ask for better reviewers so thank you for reading and commenting. I don't mean to single anyone out, but a special thanks to Mali Bear's Buddy who went far and beyond with her reviews. They made me smile, blush, laugh, and nod my head. Thank you for taking the time to write those compliments and constructed criticism. They really made my day. :]

Chapter 4:

"I went to Missouri, and learned the truth."

My eyes slowly read the first page of John Winchester's journal. I was sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair that creaked every time I moved. My feet were propped up on the small table holding the two pizza boxes Dean had order and the free liter of Pepsi that came with our delivery.

Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of Sam on his bed researching the new case we decided to go after. A ghoul, or maybe it was a ghost. Something with a 'g'. My eyes were so heavy with sleep wanting to take over, I couldn't think clearly. I should be researching as well, but couldn't muster up the strength to.

It was almost midnight, so instead I have their father's journal propped open in my lap. The brothers new it front and back, so it was time I read it.

Dean was on the second bed, scribbling something on his yellow note pad. He had already ripped out several pieces of the paper which now lay on the bed scattered carelessly. A small yawn escaped my lips just as he burped loudly.

I don't even know how people managed to do that, but he had it down packed. "Pig."

"Bite me." The green eyed man didn't bother looking up, but he was smirking all the same.

I shook my head, turning back to the book in front of me.

"Jane, can you pour me another cup of soda." But it wasn't even a question. Dean cleared his throat, expecting me to suddenly be a housewife that jumped at his will.

"God gave you two legs two walk with and two arms to function." My answer was simple. Besides, I was only playing around.

What was the miracle he didn't have a snappy comment to refute with?

My ears detected the sound of crumbling paper, right before it hit the side of my face. My mouth dropped as I looked over at him. Dean had pushed aside the notepad and was now leaning back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. A triumphant smile was poised on his sculpted lips, daring me to do something.

I bent down to pick up the balled up paper resting on the floor and threw it back. Unsuccessfully, it missed him entirely.

"What a poor shot. I'm disappointed." Dean chuckled.

I stuck my tongue out at him like a child, but laughed along all the same.

That was when I noticed Sam. The younger Winchester was watching me with those warm eyes. They held a flicker of something-discouragement?

My face heated up and I dropped my eyes back to the journal.

That was the thing with him. Sam and I haven't spoken about what happened last week. Knowing him, he would bring it up sooner or later. Maybe it was me that was afraid to face it. He's still sweet Sam, holding doors open for me and making me laugh when Dean was off flirting. It's what he always did: make me feel better. But did he know why?

I pray I wasn't that obvious. I couldn't like Dean, but lately those feelings keep recurring. And now I move away from Sam's accidental touches, like the back of his hand brushing mine when we walked next to each other.

That's not to say I disliked Sammy. He was growing on me more and more. I couldn't be sure if it was because of what we did, or rather, what we had started to do. Or if it was a genuine feeling.

There Sam was, sitting on one side of the bed with the other end open. A strand of his shaggy brown hair had fallen across his face, but he was so used to it it didn't bother him. The strand that made him all the more cutter. The adorable beauty marks on his face. His soft lips that have already made themselves welcome to mine.

And there Dean was. Shorter hair that went with his personality. Amazing green eyes that make my heart race, but still be guarded at the same time. A bit of stubble that did him well. The flamboyant attitude I was more than used to. All of this so close to me, but farther away than I wanted. A walking contradiction. And similar to the other with the other side of the bed open.

Was there no escape with these boys?

I stood up then and went to the tiny bathroom, well aware that both pair of eyes were on me. Behind the closed door I brushed my teeth and splashed the warm water in my face. That didn't take away the bags under my eyes.

In defeat, I slowly walked back out to see Sam shutting his laptop and rubbing at his eyes.

"Is that it?"

"Yeah, it's late and I'm tired of searching for info anyway." Dean answered, setting his papers on the night table beside the clock.

"But you didn't even research. All you did was draw, what is that, a space ship?" I laughed after getting a glimpse of what he had been doing the whole time.

"No, its my baby." He pouted.

That made my smile. "Well you've done the Impala a disgrace." I stifled another yawn and stretched, hearing a few bones click from being so tense.

"Whatever, just come sleep with me already."

For a moment I thought I had heard him wrong. My eyes were wide with shock until I realized what he meant. He patted the empty spot beside him, lifting up the blanket.

"I am not sleeping with you." I said firmly. He was probably enjoying the deep blush that had surfaced across my face.

"But I'm cold." Dean protested, watching as I walked around his bed. "What, you're going to sleep with Sam then?"

"Will you stop saying it like that?" I frowned in embarrassment at his smirk.

When I glanced at his brother, Sam wore an expression that clearly apologized for Dean's behavior. Why bother, it would only keep happening.

"I'm not going to bed yet, I'm not tired." What a feeble lie.

"Jane, ignore him. Just come to bed, you look like you're gonna crash in a few seconds anyway." Sam finally spoke up.

"Shut up, Sammy. Let her choose." It was all a game to Dean.

How ironic his choice of words were.

"I've already chosen." I declared and sat back in the wooden chair. I dug my iPod out of my bag and placed the ear buds in my ears. The solution to the issue crawling across my skin. If only I really knew who to choose.

-

The clock was close to striking two in the morning and I was still up. Dean had reluctantly gone to sleep and so had Sam, after trying to convince me to lay down.

It was difficult not knowing what they were thinking, what each of them wanted from me.

But now, with my music on shuffle and the volume at a moderate tempo, I couldn't prevent my eyelids from dropping. My back was stiff and cramped from my slouched position in the chair and my neck was sore. But that faded away into nothing as I fell asleep.