Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters, ever xP This is simply fan-fiction love!

My review-ees of Chapter 10: OnceUponATime102; hobbit in the shire; anon; Eliza Ghost; CandyCakes; SupernaturallyEgocentric; Tacpebs; DearHart; Stryder2008; Rosetta Brunestud; snseriesfan 3; Sesshomaru-gal; Subtext78 and Psycho33 You left me with such fantastic reviews! I really appreciate the time you take out to give me a review! It always makes my day *Harlem Shakes*

I've been so busy! But I finally set aside some time to get this done and WHOOO! I missed fanfics so much! Thanks for putting up with my oh-so-slloooowww updates! I hope the next few chapters will make up for it! :DD

.

.

Not a sissy, but maybe a Sleepwalker

.

.

"We need to bug out," John sticks his head out the door, glancing down the hallways. "I give it maybe fifteen minutes until the rounds are made."

"Fifteen?"

"Well, she did come to 'check' on Dean," John says and grimaces, "Or, to suck out his energy…"

Sam had to be really tired. He knows it, because John's last statement had him giggling. And Sam's mind only gets easily amused when he's tired. But, at least half his brain is still functioning because logic's telling him that they don't need to skedaddle just yet, "But, all that's left are ashes, so, it's not like they'll find her body or get all suspicious-"

"Yeah? And that werewolf you ghanked in that shitty town?" John says and pauses long enough for Sam to nod, "You didn't think of getting rid of that little piece of supernatural evidence, did you?"

"On the count of Dean collapsing from appendicitis and getting shot by me-" Sam stops short and sighs, he has the rest of the argument ready, but now's not the time, "… no, I didn't."

"So, it won't be long before a couple of Rookie Blues end up searching for a couple of guys who drive a Chevy Impala, heading north, and yea, the one guy was shot… How long do you figure APB will be out before this hospital reports a code red?" John snaps. He glares at Sam long enough for the point to sink in. He finally turns to Dean and taps him on the foot, "Come on, up and at 'em, little man."

Dean, on the other hand, isn't ignoring his Dad. Nope. He's just plain knocked out. Full on, passed out like a grizzly who made friends with one too many Jack Daniel's. He's even snoring. But rest might be just what he needs.. just not here, and not now.

"Get dressed, son," John pats Dean's foot again and starts to unzip the backpack he stashed under the bed. He grabs the winter sheet from the chair and crams it into the bag. Stealing? Yes. Necessary? Yes, because John'll be damned if he doesn't try to do his best for his sons. And right now, that means grabbing whatever'll make the road trip they're about to take more comfortable –for Dean.

Sam sighs when Dean doesn't react to John's call. Of course, he won't. He literally passed out from pain. He just had surgery, for Christmas sake! But, Sam's still under the cease-fire treaty he promised Dean… so, he holds off on verbally decapitating his dad –for now.

"Give me the Impala's keys, I'll his bunk ready," John orders.

It takes Sam a good minute of searching and finally finds the keys tucked in his jacket's inner-pocket. A precaution, because Sam knows Dean will kill him if he'd lose baby's keys. He hands them over.

Sam waits long enough for John to disappear out the door before pushing the door closed behind him. He trots over to Dean's bed and softly shakes Dean's shoulder, "Get dressed, Dean."

It was weird. Sam's seen this before, but it's still weird.

Dean, eyes half-lidded and blank, takes off his shirt and exchanges it for the one Sam pushes into his hands. He shuffles to the side until his legs dangle off the bed, with the help of Sam manages to get dressed in his jeans as well. He's standing now, he finished buttoning up his jeans, but he's not doing anything else. It really looks like he's in a trance. Or maybe, sleepwalking. Maybe he was.

Sam foregoes the boots and helps Dean slip on a couple of hospital-issue slippers for the walk to the Impala.

A quick check of the room, under the pillows, in the drawers, and Sam's sure he gathered everything. He looks over to Dean, who's still standing in the exact same spot where Sam put him last…. Only, he's sleeping. Head down, drool eliciting, sleeping. It makes Sam yawn.

"What did I say about goofing off?" John choses that moment to walk in.

It hits the youngest Winchester that John's possibly the only one who always manages to catch Sam doing something weird or always just at the wrong moment. Yes, Dean does get him a couple of times, but those are always on purpose –like Dean stakes him out or something. But with John, it's like John's a magnet to Sam's awkward moments. It makes Sam sigh –which accidently mutates into another sigh.

"Do I need to drive?" John says and takes hold of Sam's arm, "I'd rather not have to pick you two up out of a ditch because you decided to get forty winks behind the wheel…"

"No, I'm okay," Sam nods towards Dean, "It's him I'm worried about…"

"I have a friend who lives right outside the October Mountain Forest, a few miles away from Pittsfield," John says and frowns when Sam starts to giggle again. That boy definitely needs some rest. "We need to avoid the highways… so the drive will take longer… about four hours… will you make it?"

"Well, I have to go to the bathroom," Sam jokes and suddenly puts on a serious face when he spots John's scowl, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll get a coffee… or something…"

"I'll get Dean ready-"

It suddenly hits Sam, "Dad! Your journal!" the shock has Sam's hands shaking, "We left it in the bed and breakfast…"

"What?"

"Our gear too… I didn't think… we just rushed to the hospital…" Sam sputters, suddenly almost hyperventilating. All sleepiness was effectively erased from his system.

"Relax… for how long did you rent the room?" John says and puts a hand on Sam's head. A placating gesture.

"Two weeks… but-"

"Then it's fine. It's not like in a motel where they turn-over the bedding each morning. Did you request housekeeping?" John asks with an enquiring look.

"No-no… I didn't…" Sam says and takes a deep breath, calming down.

"Alright, then there's nothing to worry about. We'll let things settle for a couple of days then you and me'll drive down and go pick up everything," John says and smiles awkwardly, he aimed for encouraging smile but it never seems to form on his face. "I think you definitely need that coffee now…"

"Thanks, D-Dad… umm… can I get you anything?" Sam says, suddenly feeling more relaxed.

"If you're not back in ten minutes, I'll leave your ass here," John snaps and heads over towards Dean.

Yep, that just drained all the warm fuzzies out of the youngest, but, at least he'll get his café latte. And an extra coffee just for Dean, in case he wakes up. And some cookies. Dean loves cookies. Pecan nuts and extra sugar-coating. He never admits it, but it's true.

When Sam finally makes it back to the Impala, John's already tucked Dean in the backseat. He had made a surprisingly comfy-looking cot for the guy to sleep in. A thick duvet works like a mattress. The winter sheet as a comforter. Pillows included. Damn.

"I'm good, huh?" John grins and elbows Sam.

"He sure is out of it… " Sam chews on his lip, worried.

"Oh no, he woke up long enough on our trip over here to flirt with the Information Kiosk…" John shrugs and shakes his head.

"He did the same thing with a lamppost last night…" Sam mutters and chuckles.

"Yeah?"

"Called 'her' Lorelai…"

"He always had a thing for that broad from Gilmore …" John says and nods, "At least he's over his Wonder Woman fantasy…"

"Nope, still has the pictures on his phone."

"Really?"

"You don't want to see it."

"Alright, let's hit the road, kid. Stay behind me, and don't let all that sweet-stuff go to your brain," John points to Sam's latte and cookie-bag.

"I'll try," comes the snark, but Sam's still smiling. He actually did miss his dad, after all.

John gets in his truck and waits until Sam's settled into the Impala before taking off. Sam trails behind, but once they were on the road, they were both driving in-sync it seemed.

Once or twice, Dean woke up and on the third try, Dean actually spoke, "Hey… I thought you were sleeping…" Dean says and spots the coffee in the cup-holder closest to him, "Aww… thanks, man…"

"No problem, just be careful it's still hot…," Sam grins when Dean takes a long sip of the coffee and sighs in appreciation. "Dad figured we'd whisk you out of that dump… he knows how much you hate hospitals…"

"I'd hope so, I spent enough time with him…" Dean says with a loving sigh as he lowers the coffee, "Ugh, best coffee… ever…"

Sam's not too far off his game though. Because he knows what's going to follow, "Put the coffee back in the cup-holder."

And, just like before, the autopilot of Dean's sleepy brain guides his hand –with cup- back to the starting position. And then, he's passed out again. He was sleeping so deeply, so instantly, that it was kind of shocking and a bit endearing at the same time.

A low buzzing sound lets Sam know that someone's calling him.

He answers it on speaker and waits.

"Sam? You did make sure that werewolf was dead… right?"

Sam frowns, "Um… yeah, why?"

"Well, then this is a good night for werewolf hunting-" followed by the screeching of brakes.

.

.

.

CLIFFY! Kind of. I hope you liked this chapter! It's been ages since I've had time to write, and I really missed it! But all the wonderful reviews you guys sent me was enough for me to get my butt back to writing –and voila! Finished at 2 am!

I hope you enjoyed this one! Please drop me a pm or review if you did 3