Original A/N from when I started writing this chapter in 2021: Long time no see. Reading this back was kinda funny for me because I started it when I was 14 and now I'm 19. It's strange to think that I'm now closer in age to Sam and Jess to when I started this fic.

Other notes: did not realise how many typos were in this story. Sorry guys but I cba to fix them. Also did not except this to be as good as it was. Yeah it's still cringey in places but it's deffo not as cringey as expected and the writing style deffo improved

2024 A/N: Anyone still here?

I'm not someone who does well with silence. Even in the 5 minutes since John had stopped speaking, the urge to blurt out something in appropriate was bubbling inside me. Instead, I pressed my lips together and distracted myself by fiddling with a bracelet on my wrist. It was actually one that Sam had got me and, although not to my taste (it has weird symbols and stuff engraved), I liked it anyway.

"That from Sam?"

I frowned and looked up at John, who was staring straight ahead and gave no indication that he had just spoken. "I'm sorry?"

He nodded towards my bracelet. "Is that from Sam".

"Oh! Yes! It was an anniversary present actually." I smiled as I remembered how adorably awkward Sam had been when giving it to me. His head had been ducked as he shoved it over the table. It had been clumsily, but securely, wrapped in newspaper and the amount of sellotape Sam had used meant it took me a good few minutes to get to the gift.

John nodded in what seemed to be approval and muttered something with sounded suspiciously like "Good boy."

I looked at my bracelet again and attempted to see what had made John so sure that it was from Sam. It was in the style of a charm bracelet with a thin silver chain which held a variety of different pendants. Each pendent was decorated with an unique symbol. I always intended to look the symbols up when I'm in the library but it kept slipping my mind. I'd presumed that Sam had picked the bracelet for the aesthetic; maybe I was wrong.

John didn't seem to be inclined to break the silence any time soon and he didn't give me the impression that he would be interested in small talk so, to satisfy my curiosity, I took to examining his truck. Although organised, the interior betrayed that the truck was very much lived in. There were papers piled and stacks of clothing and a bag full of trash. Once I grew bored of looking at his truck, I took to observing the man himself.

I tried to do it out the corner of my eye so it wouldn't look like staring. His stubble looked was darker than a five o'clock and was peppered with grays. He had dark brows which were furrowed over tired eyes. I tried to find resemblances between the man in front of me and Sam, and, more hesitantly, Dean. Sam and John had the same dark colouring and set jaw. Dean and John had the same shaped eyes.

"Take a picture, sweetheart." John's tone wasn't angry but I blushed and looked away anyway. Evidently my attempt at subtlety wasn't subtle enough. That sentence had Dean written all over it though.

"Sorry." I stared at the window at the inappropriately bright sunlight. What did you say to your boyfriend's estranged father? "Sooooo… it's nice weather we've been having."

John just gave me a look that made it clear that statement didn't deserve a response. I mentally winced.

Other than directions at junctions, we didn't talk.

After what felt like the longest drive in my life, the truck rumbled to a halt outside the motel. I started getting ready to jump out when John said "No."

"I'm sorry?" I frowned.

John stared directly at me, eyes fixed on my own. "You're staying here." His tone was firm and made it very clear that this was not a suggestion. Now he was looking directly at me, I could see the shadows under his eyes.

"No." I lifted my chin and didn't advert my gaze. "I'm not."

John broke the eye contact first. He rubbed his beard with a hand still ordained by a wedding ring. "Sweetheart, there's things you don't know. I'm don't know what is going to be in that room, and it's best you don't see it."

I looked away as well. Instead, I stared at the motel where I hoped Dean still was. If he wasn't there, we'd never find him. "I don't care. I'm coming in."

"No." John climbed and began striding to the back of the truck.

I jumped out the other side and jogged to meet him. "You can't stop me." He raised an eyebrow as he swung open the trunk. I huffed and rolled my eyes. "Well, you probably could, but we don't have time for this. Dean is in trouble."

"You're right, we don't have time for this. So get back in the car." He pulled out a handgun and began loading it.

I pressed my lips together and suppressed my discomfort at the gun. "No. You only know where Dean is because of me. I sewed Dean up. I'm a part of this so I'm coming with you." I resisted the urge to cross my arms because I didn't think that would earn me any points.

"Lady, you barely know Dean. You're a civilian." He put the weapon in his waistband and then got the biggest knife I've ever seen out of the trunk. It was literally the length of my forearm and gleamed in way which made it obvious it was well maintained.

I tore my gaze away from the knife. There were lots of things I wanted to retort. He's my friend. I've spoken to him more than you have lately. How would you know how well I know Dean? Rather wasting my breath, I just started walking towards the motel. I channelled my anger into fastest speed walk possible. Behind me, I heard John swear under his breath, then the slam of the trunk. Then, weirdly, he chuckled.

This was so out of place that I stopped and swung around, hands flying to my hips. "What?" I demanded, with a glare.

John shook his head slightly, eyes crinkled with mirth. He caught up with me and I had to start moving again to prevent being left behind.

"What?" I repeated.

John was still smiling slightly. Side of his mouth upturned in a way that reminded me desperately of Dean. "You must be the only person more stubborn than Sam."

Despite the circumstance, I smiled back. It was true; neither me nor Sam liked to be first to back down. "I could say the same to you."

John nodded in acknowledgment as we passed the reception desk without stopping and continued down the hallway.

Door 43. We had arrived