Chapter Three

The ride to San Jose was a long one, made even longer by the music Dean had blaring through the speakers most of the way. The only reprieve Sam got was when his brother was asleep and he could sneak something else into the tape deck. That didn't come nearly often enough; it was like Dean knew what Sam would do as soon as he took over the driving. After all it was Dean himself that said 'Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.'

Wearily, Sam pulled into the first motel he saw that had a vacant sign flickering dimly in the dark night. Parking in the only empty spot, the farthest away from everything, Sam went to shake Dean awake when something else did it for him.

Thunder crashed overhead and Dean shot straight up, wincing when his seat belt locked itself in place and stopping him before he could hit the front of the dashboard. Too bad it couldn't stop him from hitting the roof of the car.

Sam snickered as Dean rubbed the top of his head. Blinking tiredly Dean turned to Sam and promptly smacked him in the arm.

"Hey! What was that for? It's not like I planned for the thunder to start."

Dean reached around into the backseat of the Impala and grabbed his duffle bag. "Yeah, whatever, grab your stuff and hurry up. I want to get a room before it starts to rain," he said as he opened the door of the car, only to be soaked in a matter of seconds when the clouds decided they'd waited long enough and began to dump their load.

Sam bit back another laugh and grabbed his stuff before running toward the main office. Following Dean in, he shook off as much water as he could. Dean was already at the counter and Sam was content to let him do the fraud.

The man behind the counter looked at the two boys suspiciously, he didn't get many people after 10pm and it was now a little after midnight. "What can I do for you?" He said to Dean in the most civil manner he could manage this early in the morning.

Dean ran a hand through his hair before answering, "I need a room with two beds," as an after thought he added, "please."

The nervous man shook his head, he might be able to get rid of them after all; they made him uncomfortable. "There's only one room left, with only one bed I'm afraid. You might have more luck else where."

Sam broke in before Dean could say anything, "Everywhere else I saw was full."

"What size is the bed?" Dean asked suddenly feeling more tired than he had all night.

"Queen."

"We'll take the room, how much?"

"$75 for the rest of tonight and all of tomorrow," the man said dejectedly. He just knew something bad was going to happen with these two here.

Dean nodded and to Sam's surprise pulled out a fifty, twenty and a five-dollar bill, giving them to the man before signing the paper he held out. Taking the key and listening to the room number, Sam let an almost invisible shudder run through him. Room 13 didn't sound very promising.

As they left the office, Dean said, "I swear to god, Sammy, you kick me and you'll be sleeping on the floor." Sam only nodded and hid a smile.

Once inside the room, which was conveniently the one in front of their parking spot Sam and Dean changed into dry things before collapsing on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Unfortunately, sleep wasn't planning on sticking around for long.