The family took a little longer to wake up in the morning. Giving another few hours of sleep was much needed after the rollercoaster of emotion they experienced yesterday. Dean got cleaned up, and Mary plugged the drain to the sink, and hand-washed his clothes with a splash of dawn, as she was up earlier than anyone that morning. It seemed that a hunter's habits died hard - she thought to herself, as she got the final stains off his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt.

"Dean! Come get your shirt and hang it up to dry hunny!" She called, and the sound of Dean's little pitter-patter down the thin hallway made her smile. She was proud of him, and how he had been so strong after all of it.

"Coming!" Dean smiled, and his small hands grabbed his shirt and ran back outside, hanging it up on the deck railings in the front of the house. Mary smiled, and started up breakfast, as the groans of her husband made her head turn.

"Morning honey," He groaned, still half asleep, and his hair cleaned up but put messily.

"Morning. Sleep well?" She questioned, cracking two eggs into a small frying pan she cleaned, and the small sizzles and pops made him smile.

"Yeah," he sniffed, walking over to the counter, grabbing some coffee beans that were tucked behind the machine, and slowly starting to pour them into the shoot. "To be honest? I think I got a damn concussion." rubbing the back of his head, he took a deep breath in, letting the smell of the eggs fill his nose, making his mouth water slightly.

"Really?" Mary stopped and raised an eyebrow. "Why? Got an egg behind your head or something?" she questioned and turned her head back towards the breakfast she was cooking. The scrambled eggs turned a light yellow color, and she looked back to John. "Can you give me a big plate while you're over there?"

"Oh uh, yeah yeah." He sighed a little and opened one of the top cabinets that hung over the microwave and handed her a blue, green, and orange plastic plate, and she smiled, transferring the eggs from the pan to the plates.

"Dean! Breakfast!" She called, and her son's little pitter-patter came back, and baby Sammy giggled, sitting in his little highchair, also ready for some breakfast. It was a calmer morning, even so, that Mary didn't even put any warding sigils up. That was the best part about the northeast region. Even all the way down in Mississippi or Tampa Bay, there were little to no demons, as the areas were too populated and would get caught in the act - or too desolate for any demons to bother.

Once the family ate their breakfast, they headed out back onto the road, for the long ride that was waiting for them.

"How much longer until we get to Disney?" Dean questioned with an eager smile, as Mary looked up at the nearest exit sign, which read 'Next exit: Birmingham 2 miles'. Which in that case, meant they were going on I-65, and needed to pop onto I-85 to get to Disney. Thank god John had kept a map in the glove box, or they were going to be screwed.

"Bout 18 hours, bud." John sighed, and Mary took the nearest exit and turned off the main road, which made John perk up. "Um, Mary. You're going the wrong way."

"I know," She answered and turned to the nearest Burger King. "We've been driving for almost 5 hours, Dean's hungry, and I need a break," Mary said and started to get out of the Impala, and stopped John from opening the passenger door for a moment and looked at him dead in they eyes.

"What?" John said, assuming she was talking with him about something, but it was quite the contrary.

"You need to stay with the kids, John. I'll only be a minute." Mary answered flatly and looked back to Dean, who was playing with his hoodie straps. "Dean, you want the usual?"

"Uhuh..." Dean replied, distracted at the moment as he pulled the string in one direction, and it got longer, but shorter on the other end - How the hell could he find it so mesmerizing? Must be his father's genes or something.

Mary questioned to herself, before looking back to her husband. "Make sure they don't somehow blow up the car while I'm gone. Please?"

"We won't, we won't," John said, acting as if he was being scolded from the last time he was left alone with the kids. Hell, was it a disaster? Dean got into the trunk, which had groceries inside, and found the paint. At the time, Mary was preparing to put warding sigils hidden around Sam and Dean's rooms for protection. And the next thing she knew? She came back to see a dong painted red on the windshield. Oh was that one hell of an argument afterward? Took six trips to the car wash to get it off, and even worse? Every time it rained, there would still be leftover paint, running down into the engine.

"Alright then, I'm trusting you. Ya hear? Comprende?"

"Comprende." John and Dean answered back, except Dean didn't come close to pronouncing it correctly, but it was pretty damn cute.

As Mary made her way into the Burger King, she was met with a damp smell she couldn't put her finger on. Just get in, and out - she told herself, and the people in the restaurant, and got an eerie feeling, her gut telling her to run away. but she didn't listen and walked up to the front counter, where a stalky teenager looked her up and down before asking her.

"Hello... what would you like?" the girl said kindly, but Mary had the feeling she could see right through the girl. And she kept her eyes locked onto the teenager for a hot ten seconds before breaking the tense silence.

"I'll have two double cheeseburgers, a six-piece chicken nugget, a medium fry, and a small fry."

"Alright..." The girl wrote down her order on a slip before looking back up. "Any drinks?"

"No," Mary replied flatly, which sent a slight shiver down the teenager's spine, but she provided to rip the slip off and stick it on the thin wedged rack. She moved on, and patiently sat down on the nearest highchair, and crossed her arms and legs, occasionally peeking to see if she was being watched. Until she felt a small tap on her shoulder.

"Hey, sorry to bother you-"

"Huh?" She jolted up and locked eyes with who looked to be mid-twenties, and had bright blonde hair. Wearing a tan plaque light jacket, a burnt orange t-shirt underneath, and jeans. But the only thing she couldn't keep her eyes off of?

His eyes.

They looked like they were burning in hell, like two bright amber flames, as they looked to be brown, but Mary's red flags specified for them to be amber.

"Woah! You alright miss?" His tone was smooth, and a little soft-spoken for the man with a twinge of southern, as he tilted his head and his eyebrows furrowed, showing an unreadable expression.

"Uh...y-yeah," Mary replied and leaned back a little. Her suspicions were growing, yet she couldn't smell any sulfur or fire-like smells coming from him, only the faint hint of a callone.

The man smiled, extending a seemingly friendly handshake. "Names Angel."