Literature
Restless Night
Nights at a motel were rarely quiet, in Sam’s expert experience, but this particular night was especially loud. For the last five minutes, the rustling of sheets had broken through the normal silence. This motel was deep in the countryside, far from the bustle of a normal town. The only sounds to be heard outside the room were the calm chirp of crickets in the distance, and the occasional bird passing by the window. None of that had been what woke Sam, however. He was far more concerned with what seemed to be Dean struggling in his own bed, above and to the side of Sam’s own place under the nightstand. Losing a fight with the covers, from what Sam could hear. Normally, the most he heard from Dean’s side of the room was the occasional snore or a bit of tossing and turning right after laying down. Never at 3am in the morning. Concerned, Sam dragged himself out of his bed and grabbed his satchel. His supplies were ready to go at any time, always left in an easy-to-reach spot nearby.
