Title: Bobby's Daughter

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize…

Warnings: Nope.

Notes: Nope.

Enjoy!

It was midnight.

Sam had long ago gone to sleep – jeez, the kid could be in la-la land forever: he had slept six hours in the car already. Dean was sleeping too, careful not to rest on his stitches, so he was on his right side. I had just finished showering and slipped out of the bathroom's steamy warmth into the cool motel room.

I tossed my dirty clothes into my mesh bag and quickly slithered into the bed behind Dean. He must have been keeping a spot warm for me because it felt like a butt warmer that's been on for just the right amount of time.

I curled up in my usual position, the fetal position. It was comfortable for me. (But apparently, if you ask some psychology students, it means that I'm insecure. Go figure.)

I closed my eyes at first, but that didn't help my want of sleeping. So I opened them and stared at Dean's back.

God, there were so many toned muscles. I don't think I studied that much in medical school.

And there was the nasty knife wound: flesh clashing with black stitches. Every time he moved the muscles tensed, the stitches pulled.

Absently, my finger wandered over and traced it. I could feel his body getting goose bumps, but he didn't stir.

Deciding I shouldn't be touching him because he might wake, I climbed out of bed and walked outside, closing the door gently behind me.

I stood in the moonlight, leaning against the railing. It was sort of chilly and my attire (boxers that acted as underwear and night pants at the same time with a tank top) didn't do much to help.

"Trying to get a part in Ice Age," a Winchester asked from behind me.

I turned around, standing up. It was Dean. He had his jacket in one hand and closed the door behind him with the other. He was only wearing his boxers.

"No," I said amused. "Just couldn't sleep." He didn't even bother to check me out as he wrapped his coat around me before leaning on the railing next to me. He was facing the motel room door and I was looking out into the parking lot.

He was silent at first, but then he spoke, "You worried?"

I glanced at him, but he wasn't looking at me. "Make me a promise."

I saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye. Total topic change, I know. "What?"

"You won't leave us in the same room together alone."

He watched me for a second before nodding. "Yeah. Okay."

I watched his eyes before deciding he was telling me the truth, so I returned the truth: "Yeah. I'm a little nervous."

He seemed to let this register before pivoting his body. He stood behind me and leaned over me, putting his chin on my shoulder. His arms outlined mine as he whispered, "Don't be."

And for once, the thought of pushing him away didn't even register.

Pop References:

Car butt warmers. Gotta love them!

Psychology study on sleeping positions. That's actually what the fetal position (when you're sleeping) means.

Ice Age!!!! Lol. Love that movie.