No music, no sound. Just the pur of the impala as it sped down the lonely highway. The long yellow lines paved on the road seemed endless to Sam, as he rubbed his face lazily. It was darkness ahead, and never seemed to stop. It was like they would never reach where their headed.
But where are the Winchesters headed? No where special. No where at all. They were just drifting about the country, always on the run. Sleep was cut down to 3 hours. Food seemed to be rationed, and for what? For the sake of staying light on their feet---for being alert 24/7. But they were only human, if the end of the world doesn't kill them, this newly found lifestyle will.
Speaking of lifestyle, this was quite different for these three. Never would they ever imagine themselves running away from a battle. But not just a battle, but everything and everyone. Demons possessed the majority of the United States now, they were sure of it. It's more than the Winchesters could handle, and they've been known to handle a lot. This is war, this is an extermination, and the only three people who can save humanity are on the run. Two of which decide on which side wins---Heaven or Hell.
Sam glanced over at Dean, who was passed right out. There was no waking him up easily. Sam proceeded on looking back to the road, wanting to pull over desperately and sleep. No, he had to keep going, maybe in an hour Dean will wake up and they could switch. Sam hoped for it.
Dean flinched in his sleep, but not lightly either. Sam gazed over. He must really be asleep... or dreaming.
White light, just like the at the motel window, surrounding his head, suffocating his dream. Static screeched in his ear. Dean was wide awake... in his dream. He walked around inside his head, still seeing nothing but white light, still hearing nothing but static.
It was probably God speaking to him again, he thought.
"God?" Dean asked cautiously. The light began to mesmerize him again. Dean stood every still, and all of a sudden, he heard it. He heard it speak, well, whisper. It told him to listen.
"I'm listening." Dean replied obediently.
Dean tuned his ears, listening with undivided attention. After a long pause, Dean spoke. "God, what is it?"
"This isn't God," the voice replied immediately. Dean took a sharpend breath, and holding on to it with fear. If it wasn't God, then who could it possibly be?
"Then who are you?" Dean asked with force. If God hadn't answered him, he didn't want any crap. The voice said nothing. "Tell me, you son of a bitch!" Dean shouted into nothingness.
"Dean, they're listening. It's not safe here." The voice whispered again.
"What are you talking about, we're inside my head."
Then it hit Dean. He's had this conversation before, a long time ago. No, the light and voice wasn't God, but it wasn't evil either. At that moment, Dean woke, flinching as he took his waking breath. Sam looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow. "Bad dream?" He asked sleepily. Dean's eyes were wide and awake. That was enough sleep for him. He didn't answer Sam right away, he had to take a moment to look back on what had happend.
Quickly, Dean looked over his shoulder and at Melinda, who was sound asleep in the back. Which was good, because Mel couldn't hear what he was about to tell Sam. Dean glared at his brother. Sam flashed him a worried stare. "You okay?"
Dean broke eye contact, and looked to the front. "No, but I think I might be."
"What does that mean?" Sam half-chuckled.
Dean didn't laugh. "I'm serious, Sam. Something... or someone spoke to me."
Sam shook his head. "That's called a dream." He said with obvious sarcasum. Dean scowled at him. "I'm freaking serious Sam, someone spoke to me in my dream, and in the motel room just before you and Mel came in."
Sam through away his sarcasum and began to listen to Dean with an open-mind. "Umm, okay, well what did it say?"
"Not much, but I think I know who it is." Dean leaned back. Sam glanced at Dean for a moment. "And?"
Dean hesitated, not completely sure if he was right, or should even tell Sam. "Just before you guys came back to the motel, I uhh.. I prayed. To God. And I thought he was talking to me, but now, I'm no so sure it's him."
Sam stayed silent until Dean spoke again.
"You can't tell Melinda this." Dean said bluntly, staring wildly at Sam.
"Whatever you can tell me, you can tell her." Sam said as he looked in the rearview mirror. Dean rolled eyes and groaned. "Sam. We can't tell her, because I don't know how she'll take it."
Sam gave Dean a look. "Kay, well, tell me then. Who spoke to you?"
Dean hestiated again, staring blankley at the windshield.
"Sam, I think it's Cas."